


Fishmonger's Daughter

by Lissanna_Grey



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Panic Attack, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22229680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lissanna_Grey/pseuds/Lissanna_Grey
Summary: Jaskier had a life that he walked away from to become a Bard. He has travelled across the Continent both by himself and with his Companion, Geralt of Rivia. What happens when they happen upon a familiar town and find a familiar face? Slow burn Jaskier/OC
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 84





	1. Mad World

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh. SO, I tried to write a little somthing for a lovely Bard that doesn't get the love he deserves! Hope you guys like it!

“One stop. That’s all I’m asking for.” Jaskier pleads from behind his companion, legs creaking from under him with every step. “One measly stop, in a forgettable town, for one night that you won’t remember five years from now. But _I_ will. I will write the most _beautiful_ sonnet of this night. The moon, the stars- “Jaskier was no fool. He knew what he was signing up for by tagging along with the Witcher on his travels. He just remembers the White Wolf taking more stops to bathe. He couldn’t stand the onion smell that was reeling from them both any longer.

“Will it get you to shut the _fuck_ up?” Geralt grumbles from atop Roach, not even bothering to look at the bard. He knew Jaskier meant well. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t annoyed with the constant talking, singing and complaints. Even if it was better than travelling in silence.

“ _Yes_!” Jaskier exclaims, excited that Geralt finally understood that he had needs too as he extends his arms to enunciate his point. Finally. The road was long, however he walked quietly for the remainder of their journey. He didn’t want Geralt to suddenly change his mind and take his bath from him. The Witcher was pleasantly stunned and tucked that sacred piece of information away for later. _A promise of bathing will make him quiet. Must be almost as good as sex after being stuck with him for so long, at this point._

They came to a familiar town that sat at the edge of a forest, and memories flooded Jaskier as he led the way to the inn, taking a short pit stop a resident tavern, for a ‘local specialty’ Jaskier insisted. Geralt followed wordlessly, asking no questions as to how Jaskier seemed to almost prance down the streets humming an older song, one that the Witcher hadn’t heard from him before. Peculiar. Seeing as Jaskier always had Geralt listen to him sing his new songs before he ‘serenaded’ the public.

Fucking _always._

Geralt tied Roach outside the inn, Bee and Barb. Unique enough. Jaskier had disappeared inside with a smile too wide on his face and that told Geralt nothing good. Only bad things could come from this if it made Jaskier so happy.

* * *

My mother used to tell me that my touch was ‘as light as a feather’s’. That I drifted through life as a pocket of air and that every move I made went unnoticed by those around me. My feet never touched the ground, my head in the clouds, a slight breeze being the only sign that I was even present. I was rarely acknowledged, my presence always overlooked by those around me. 

  
It was Jaskier that told me it was only when I started to leave that people noticed me. It was when they clutched their chest, wondering why it was so much harder for them to breathe. He said that I had always given him the ‘breath of adventure’. 

Adventure. His first _true_ love. No matter how much I wanted that love to be me. It had been years since I’ve seen the man, but there was hardly a day that I hadn’t thought of him. His sweet goodbye under the tree, our tree we used to climb as young children, was the one memory I clung to most. 

I remember the way he hugged me that day. The way his arms wrapped around me, and that it almost hurt, but in a good way- as if he wanted me to sink into him. It’s as if he wanted me to carve a hole into his chest and live there to travel the Continent with him, to keep inside of his body. I remember not breathing, I remember not needing to because for once someone else was doing it or me. For once, someone else was the warm breeze filling my chest with their air, the air of adventure. The whole memory brings nothing but joy to me now, but all I can think of is how much I read too much into things. How much I inference and want him to _wan_ t me.

Thank goodness my mother wasn’t here to see how far I’d fallen since he had left our small town and subsequently, my life in its entirety. Five years was a long time for him to be gone. He had traveled and made a new life for himself and travelled the Continent. Fighting beasts, befriending Witchers and bedding women. All while I strayed five miles from your hometown to a slightly smaller village to become a local barmaid, waiting hand-and-foot on drunken patrons. 

The day had been started out dull and rainy. It turned long and boring inside of the old inn, where everyone convened to seek refuge from the incessant raindrops. Nothing to do except bring beer and food to those who ordered. No new travelers to converse with. The Bee and Barb was popular in this province for its up-and-coming bards, new faces every week trying to earn a name for themselves like their predecessors before them. After a while, all their voices seemed to blend in, the songs sounding the same. The melodies all had the same rhythm, the cadence of the words was too similar.

Nothing like Jaskier's songs.

I push the thought to the back of my mind as I weave through the patrons, the tray high above my head as I push past drunken men and women to get to the table on the other side of the room. Mid-day to evening was always the busiest, and I couldn’t imagine why. I mean, sure, this is the cleanest establishment in town but that shouldn’t mean that these people should make my job impossible by being in the way all the time. I clear my tray with a smile, grabbing coins and slinging them into my pocket with a polite smile that was plastered on my face. 

A young lady was singing with her lute in front of a crowd as I made my way back to the bar and I swore that I saw a familiar shade of brown hair make its way to my counter. Strange. I hurry back seeing two customers waiting for me, one broad the other… Not so much. The broad one was dressed in black leather, weapons strapped along his back. Didn’t look like he needed them with his size. The other man was a tad shorter, less broad in build. His clothes were of a more vibrant color you noticed as he heaved himself onto a stool, turning his whole body sideways so his elbow rested on the bar, while also giving you a glimpse of his profile. 

I had to take a double look as I see a glimpse of him. There was no way. After all this time, Jaskier just happens to walk in here? Your Jaskier with his Witcher in tow, off to another hunt? It had been years since you had seen him. Would he recognize you as easily as you did him? You were best friends, once upon a time. 

If only fairy tales ever did exist.

I feel like my feet are rooted to the spot while something pulls me forward, an invisible force. Destiny, maybe? Preposterous. It had been at least five years since you’ve seen the man. Since he went to make a name for himself and make a name he did.

I slowly drudge over to the counter, head down as I walk behind, sliding the tray across to Theodora as I approach the bard and his companion, a mixture of anticipation and skepticism swirling it’s way though my veins at the sight of him. He hasn’t changed much. His eyes still a baby blue, lips that look to good to kiss, hair, albeit greasy, I would still love to run my fingers through. Although friends don’t want to run their hands through friend’s hair, do they?

“Welcome. What may I serve you gentlemen tonight?” I ask, tone a bit rushed as I stare at the man with pale hair, my polite smile still stretched over my face. His eyes are a gold amber color as he stares right back, handsome face set in a soft look of reverence as he mulls over the words he’s about to say. This must be Geralt of Rivia. Just as he is about to speak, the Bard interrupts him, leaning between the two of us on the bar so I would be forced to look at him.   


“Does Vilod still make his homemade mead with the juniper berries mixed in?” Jaskier asks in a rush. My eyes turn down to him and a mischievous smile sparks on his face as our eyes meet. I nod at him meekly, not trusting my voice. Should’ve guessed that’s what he would ask for after all these years. Damn mead instead of where I am. “I know you.” He says, raising a finger whilst shaking it at me. I shake my head as my smile grows from nerves. Maybe I _was_ important enough for him to remember, better than all those silly adventures he thought the world of. I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear as I glance down, clearing my throat as I tense under his gaze.   


“I get that a lot. But, no, I don’t thin- “I protest before I look up and see a light flash in his eyes. If I blinked, I swear I would have missed not only the look in his eyes, but his action. He jumps from his seat in a commotion, stool colliding to the floor with a loud _‘thunk’_ from the force of his upheaval as he claps his hands together once before turning towards his companion, either ignoring or not noticing the annoyed glances from my patron around him and Geralt. 

“Thank you, Geralt. Really. Thank you,” He gestures to me then back to Geralt in a sort of quick introduction before continuing, “because it is you, Elowyn.” His voice takes on a new level of excitement as his baby blues lock eyes with mine and I giggle at him slightly, looking down before nodding at him. He obviously hasn’t learned of his affect on those around him yet. Good. That was one of my favorite things about him.

“Yes, Jaskier. It is. You’ve been a long way from home.” I comment as I turn my back to get his mead, filling two mugs three-quarters of the way before I turn to get a couple of handfuls of berries from behind the counter. He says nothing in response as I get their drinks ready, possibly stunned to silence. I crush the berries before adding them to the top, making sure to add some honey in as well. I place the two glasses in front of the men, catching eyes with Jaskier before I see someone waving me over from behind him as I sigh heavily. For one night, one forsaken night, can’t I have just one decent conversation? If only, except that my night has just begun. “See you later, Jas.” I walk away, towards the drunken men and woman of the Bee and Barb. My only place in life, it seems.

How dull and dreadful.

As he looked over to her, it suddenly stuck him how beautiful she was. Her hair was hanging loosely around her in waves, always in their perfect waves, reminding him of her laughter which was rich and dark like dwindling sunlight over the hills. He had the oddest impulse to run his fingers through the strands tenderly. Were they as soft as they looked? Would his fingers glide through easily or would they get caught on a knot, pulling her head back revealing her long pale neck? Would she allow him to do such an _intimate_ act? He could picture her now. Head thrown back, eyes closed, full lips slightly parted moaning his name.

He didn’t recognize her at first. Her head had been down, but the moment her eyes had connected with Geralt’s, he knew. In that moment Jaskier knew instantaneously who that woman was, whilst being enamored all he could do was keep asking himself _‘why_ ’?

_Why did he ever leave?_

He needs to get closer to her, to see her better. _Does she still have a scar under her chin from when she fell when she was nine? On her cheek, was there still a freckle in the shape of a heart by her temple?_ He leans on the counter, sitting in her path to the more handsome man. He didn’t know if he could bear her pining for the stoic man, it would kill him.

“Does Vilod still make his homemade mead with the juniper berries mixed in?” He can’t help but ask. This is the reason they came here in the first place, may as well humor Geralt. Show him what true mead tastes like.   


“I know you.” His voice is filled with mirth as it floats through Geralt, making him stop in his tracks. The young woman shook her head as she blushed, and Geralt had a felling he knew their situation, if all too well. The smiles, the looks. Geralt looked between the bard and barmaid as she fetched their alcohol, ignoring Jaskier’s antics. 

They look at each other as if they were almost lovers, like they should have kissed and made love and laughed in bed together, but they chose to stay friends instead. They looked at each other with what ifs and could haves, and all he can see in Jaskier’s eyes is regret. He can hear her heart pound in her chest, her breath quicken as she walks back. Was she feeling the same? Maybe both hearts were filled with regret. None of this was his business though, nor would he make it.

As she walked away from the pair of men, Jaskier couldn’t help his eyes from trailing after his newfound muse. Geralt, on the other hand, swiftly brought his tankard towards his lips, taking a hearty chug of the sweet mead. The Witcher would never admit it out loud, but maybe Jaskier was onto something about this homemade alcohol.

“She has to come with us.” The brunette blurts out, gaze never breaking from his long-lost friend. Geralt simply rolls his eyes with a soft ‘hum’, finishing the sweet drink before taking Jaskier’s from in front of him. “Her mother was a healer so she may prove useful in a pinch.” He continues, eyes finally moving to his companion. Geralt simply nods once at the bard, and he jumps in excitement, taking his tankard from Geralt. He finishes the drink and wipes his face before setting out to find this Elowyn to sweep her off her feet, although Geralt doubted she would simply drop her life and run away with a bard and a Witcher at the drop of a hat.

_Spheres,_ please allow him to be right.

* * *

It took little convincing from the bard to sway the sweet, _sweet_ maiden to join their- well, _Geralt’s_ voyage. Jaskier was just the public relations expert, swaying the outlook of the mutant to his fellow human beings. It wasn’t like Geralt wasn’t an unreasonable man. Grumpy, yes, but never unreasonable. 

Her lips curled into a slight smile that radiated warmth through his whole being as her bright eyes stayed glued to his for a fleeting moment and _damn_ did he love it. He was addicted already, and he didn’t know what to do about it. 

They sat under a large shade tree while it rained softly around them. The soft _‘pitter-patter’_ of the rain surrounding them seemed to set the rhythm for Elowyn’s heart whenever her eyes caught his, and all she kept asking herself was _‘why’_?

_Why did she ever let him leave?_

Before him sat a woman, a fucking _gorgeous_ one at that, and he was stunned that she was letting him unravel her mystery, becoming a part of her present. How crazy is the thought, how could he have never noticed that her eyes were just the right shade of honey brown, a lightness around the iris while the darkness clung to the edges or how her laughter reminded him of summertime. They had been friends for so long, and yet he’d never really looked at her. Jaskier found himself staring, desperate to learn more.

“What are you looking at?” She questioned, finally pulling him from his daze. Gods, how embarrassing. Jaskier was at a loss of words. A bard, speechless. Why did he suddenly become nervous? They’d been friends for years, since before they could walk. Friends weren’t supposed to make you nervous, or make your hands sweat. Was that butterflies in his stomach, or was it the berries he drank earlier not settling on his stomach after not having them for so long?

“Um… You-You have a bug in your hair.” He stuttered. He went to reach his hand out, maybe run a finger through her hair but thought better of it. Friends don’t touch other friend’s hair, did they? He suddenly didn’t have any answers, any guidelines for the dangerous territory he was heading in. She shook her head, splaying her dark red hair around her and the smell of roses and honey hits his nose sharply, making his heart stutter in his chest. It was as if she were stealing the very air from his lungs as she looks back up at him with her doe-like eyes, her skin almost glowing under the dark tresses of her hair. 

“Is it gone now?” Elowyn asked so casually, as if suddenly everything hadn’t changed. As if her smile didn’t hold the warmth of the sun. _That would make for a good line in a song._

“Yes,” He hummed, aware of how his voice sounded, of how his teeth were crooked, of how completely lovely she was. “Yes, it’s all good now.” Did he dare tell her that she was beautiful? No, that could ruin everything. He decided that maybe this feeling would pass. That maybe when they rode out tomorrow, she would go back to being his best friend, and not a girl that somehow took up the space in his chest and lungs, making it hard for him to breathe. Maybe this epiphany was only temporary, and they would eventually fall back into their rhythm. But did he really want that?

“You know, I’m really glad that we found one another again.” She says, smiling sweetly at him from under the shade of their shade tree. Gods, what wouldn’t he do to see that every day? He laughed gently and noticed that she had turned her body to face him, sitting so that their knees were touching. How could she be doing all this? All she did was sit there, and she was taking his breath away. It had to be some sort of magic, some sort of spell she cast on him. The way her eyes twinkled as she looked at him, the gentle smile on her face. 

Her dark hair framed her face well, her nose small and button-like, cheekbones high and lips full. What he wouldn’t do to feel them pressed against his. Someone should make her into a sculpture, he should mold her features in warm clay to commemorate her beauty forever, longer than any ballad could. Jaskier wasn’t sure if there were any words in any language that could capture the raw beauty she held in that moment, eyes twinkling in the dark sunset with a smile just for him. If only his hands were dexterous enough to catch the fine details of her face, to catch the innocence and beauty of Elowyn. It took him a moment to remember that she spoke to him as he smiled back, snaking a hand out to pat her knee.

“Me too. We should head to the tavern. Find Geralt before he leaves us.” Jaskier informs her with a soft smile. He stands and extends a hand to help her, and almost sighs in pleasure when their hands collide as he squeezes her hand slightly as he tugs her up standing next to him. Who knew that even holding hands could feel so good? Her hand was so warm, and so damn soft. As quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. He had to release her once she was standing upright, her head falling just at his chin.

“He wouldn’t really leave us, would he?” Ely asks as she peers through her long lashes up at him. Fuck, he just wants to kiss her. He laughs lightly as he turns on his heel and starts walking away towards the tavern, hands resting in his trousers as he begins whistling a new tune, a new song coming to life in his mind. A sweet melody wafting though the air between them as she follows with giggling, taking his answer as a yes. 

_Maybe this adventure wouldnt be so bad after all._


	2. Devil Like You

_The sun streamed in steadily through the bare window, the warm afternoon sun warming my pale skin as I dressed in my finest clothes. I wanted to look good today for myself, for_ him. _To show him that there may be another side to me; a more feminine, womanly side._

_Could Jaskier ever look at me the way I did him? I pull the sleeve of my white dress off one of my shoulders, leaving it bare before turning back and forth. The stark whiteness of the dress contrasted nicely with the dark brown of the ccorset. I looked skinnier than I was, and my boobs looked bigger than they were at least._

_Still not enough._

_I pulled the other sleeve down half way leaving both shoulders bare and stood before the dirty reflection, eyes raking over the mirror carefully. My somewhat-tames locks were tied behind the nape of my neck behind my shoulders while my mothers ring hung delicately off my collarbone above my cleavage. If this doesn't gather his attention, then he is as blind as a bat and as stupid as a mule. I will forever be stuck with the title of 'friend' and I don't know if I could live with that._

_"Ely! Elowyn, darling! Hurry along, Jaskier is already on his way!" I hear mother call from across the house as I throw my hands behind me, struggling to tighten this_ sphere-forsaken _corset. I suck in a breath of frustration as I hear a scuffle of feet hit the front door before they run to my side of the house. Closing my eyes, I pray that my fingers cooperate and pull the right ties to tighten the damn thing from the_ top _n_ _ot the_ bottom _before this intolerable bard-in-training enters my-_

_“If you needed help, you could ‘a just asked, love.” His voice is so smug in that moment, so confident. I scoff as my hands and heart come to a standstill, his fingers softly flicking mine loose from the leather binds as he stands close behind me. Too close. The smell of dandelions, pears and lavender envelop me as I take a deep breath before I reply, not bothering to protest his closeness._

_“Didn’t your mo- “I pull a hand to my chest, eyes opening abruptly as he tugs the laces a bit too tight, the air vanishing from my lungs with my words, “-ther teach you not to walk in on a lady?” When he is done I turn and glare at him, trying desperately not to return the shit-eating grin he has on his face. The way that the light beams in through the window catches his hair in just the right way, making it look three shades lighter than it should. Large blue eyes look lighter as a ray of sun catches the orbs as they crash with my simple brown ones. He angles his head towards mine, so our foreheads were almost touching as if to tell a secret._

_“It would work if you were a lady, you little devil.” He teases quietly before he turns and bolts away from me. I gasp at him for a moment in shock before I grab my boots and run after him._

_“_ Jaskier _!” I yell at his retreating back as he runs to the tavern. I slip on the boots at the front door, eyes not leaving the path that he had taken. That little shit. I follow him in haste, arms down to try to stop my dress from whipping around me although the corset prevented me from running after him properly, a small giggle emitting its way from me uncontrollably as I race after him._

I could chase him forever.

_I crash into the tavern, breathing sporadically from the damn corset being too tight as I collide with my mother. She giggles at my rough entrance, eyes dancing over to the boy leaning against the opposite post, his vibrant blue and purple back purposely to the entrance. I could tell from the rise and fall of his shoulders that he was out of breath as well. Damn him._

_“Sorry, Ma.” I apologize, half panting as I kiss her cheek, accepting the tankard from her aging hand. She waves me off with a small smile before her mossy green eyes narrow slightly at me. She pulls my hair from its spot tied at the nape of my neck, a small ‘_ tsk _’ sent my way in judgement._

_“A_ woman _lets her hair down every once and a while, Elowyn.” She chastises lightly, hand weaving its way through my hair, making my waves bounce back in their natural place. I roll my eyes as I take a drink of the bitter beer, wincing slightly at the taste._

_“Sorry, Ma.” I apologize once again, walking along side her to the table holding the rest of my family._

_“Lookie here, Orson!” Ma calls out to my father as we round the table, arm around my bare shoulders. I smile at him, excited that he finally got a decent few days off to spend with us to celebrate. “Isn’t this dress lovely?” She asks rhetorically, hand skimming down my sleeve, fingering the expensive lace. The corset I’ve had since I turned 16, the dress a gift Father got as a gift for my birthday from a passing traveler, or so he told me._

_“My little girl.” He coos, dark eyes meeting mine. Most say that I looked like my mother, dark red hair and high cheekbones. Smaller eyes than many of the other girls. I, on the other hand, always thought that I looked like the man before me, the man who spent everyday he had selling fish. Stinky, slimy, rancid fish that was barely worth the dirt on the bottom of his shoe by the time it got to our neck-of-the-woods._

_That never stopped him, not ever. Everyday that there was air inside of his lungs, Orson was out there, talking anybody and everybody into buying something from him so he could feed his wife and my brother and me. When Maddox was old enough, he had left. Gone off to be an adventurer, to get a taste of the salty air and the green grass. Mother had done nothing but supported his dreams, feeding that wandering spirit inside of him. Urging him to just go. He seemed to find his way back every now and then, a warm breeze passing through whenever he was able. This was one of those times, the day of celebrating not only my entrance into this world, but my best friend’s._

_“Daddy, please.” I protest, going to drink my beer once more. Not this early tonight, no please._

_“Just-Just let me say one thing? Just one, I promise.” He assures, tears gathering in our eyes. I blink as I chug the rest of my beer, shaking my head at the light-headed feeling it leaves me. He grabs one of my soft hands into both of his rough calloused ones, eyes not leaving mine as he speaks from his heart. “I hope you find someone who is brave enough to enter your storm and respects you enough to love the size of your waves. I hope that you fine someone who will relish the calm you can have, and who is eager to set sail on the expanse of your mind. I hope you find someone that cannot ever escape the love they have for you, because now they have you in their very blood, coursing through their veins always reminding them that you are the only sea worth exploring.” By the time he finishes, he has a stray tear or two running down not only his face, but my own. I hastily wipe them all away, his and mine, wracking my head, trying to find something acceptable to say. What can you say after your father lays his intentions bare to you like that? The man who has always sacrificed everything for you, not laying everything in front of you to see._

_“You said one. That was, at the least, three.” I tease, leaning on my toes to kiss his rough cheek. I turn to go grab some more beer, passing Jaskier on my way. Jas smiles at me in passing, raising his lute in my direction._

_“If I may have your attention, please!” Jaskier speaks loudly, gaining what he wishes. I, however, ignore him as I get some more beverages. I know that I will not survive this night sober. “Lovely ladies and proud gentlemen. If I may.” He stalls, bowing slightly as he catches me eye while I turn. There is a mischievous smile on his face, and I don’t trust it for a moment._

_“Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger; Come quell your daughter’s hunger,” He sings, rather beautifully may I add. I smile at him, but his smirk only widens. Why does that worry me? “To pull… On my horn… As it rises in the morn’!” He sings gleefully, smile ever broadening on his beautiful face. He did not! “For tis not, but bad luck to FUCK with a puck!” By this time others are clapping in time with him, and I cannot do more than stand there and place a hand over my mouth. What in the name of everything holy… “Lest your grandkid be born a hairy young FAUN! Bleating and baying, all day, hey! Ho!” I drink another tankard of beer before heading over to my parents, face red from embarrassment. “The fishmonger’s daughter, ba! Ba!” His voice trails behind me as I plop beside my father, face red from his incessant singing. He starts over from the beginning, other drunkards joining in this time with a laugh. My father elbows me with a smile of his own nodding towards Jaskier dancing and singing in front of his beloveds._ He could keep them then and write embarrassing songs of them too, if he so wished.

_“If he’s going to make a profit from us, you may as well stake your claim, eh?” He teases as I take another greedy drink from my cup. I sputter as I slam the cup down, earning a laugh from the table and catching the eye of a very_ annoying _bard._

_“You’re not making any of this better.” I mutter, ignoring the lot of them. A warm feeling flows through me, and I no longer know if it’s from Jaskier’s song or the alcohol swirling its way through my body. At this point, it may be a mixture of both. And that didn’t bother me in the slightest._

* * *

“Elowyn, wake up.” Jaskier speaks into my ear, shaking my shoulder softly. “Elowyn, we don’t have time for this. Wake up, Geralt’s going to leave us and it’s going to be your fault.” He whines from above me, shaking me harder. The sun had yet to rise, the small room still dark. The only light that illuminated the room was one that Jaskier had brought with him, a lone candle that was lit and sitting on the dresser by my lonely mirror.

“You sound like a child.” I groan, pushing him away from me as I stand beside my bed, not bothering to be modest. I was wearing a nightgown. I trudge over to the clothes laid out on the chair, turning my back to the man as I lift my dress over my head. I hear him clear his throat from behind me and I look over my shoulder to see him turned around, hands on his hips. He was pointedly staring at the closed door; his shoulders tense and I could _feel_ the hardened stare he was giving the wall. Maybe Jaskier had turned into a man since his departure.

“You’re _acting_ like a child, you _devil_.” He quips, running a hand through his hair, giving a slight tug at the chocolate locks. I laugh as I turn and finish getting dressed, pulling a blouse on before stepping into a corset before my trousers. I hold the offending leather up under my arm as I tie my pants, sighing as I reach behind me to lace the _damn_ thing up. Before I get a chance to fail at fastening myself up, I feel a familiar _flicking_ at my fingers and I drop my hands with a small giggle, shaking my head as a sense of de ja vu floods me. “I guess some things never change.” Jaskier teases as he laces it up rather tight.

“Have I ever complained about your lacing techniques?” I ask mindlessly, mind still hazy from sleep. He chortles lightly behind me before he loosens the cords slightly, leisurely sliding a finger between my back and the material. I can feel the heat trail from his finger on my spine through the thin material of my shirt pump through my sleepy body making everything feel so damn _good_.

“Does the demon feel better now?” Jaskier asks mockingly in my ear as he attentively removes his finger, hot air fanning the outer shell of my ear. I breathe in the scent of dandelions and lavender and close my eyes to relish this moment. To ingrain that smell into my being, to remember how the heat feels as it pumps through his finger to my limbs, if only for a transient moment. 

“Yes, very much so.” I respond, walking away from him and his sinful touch, to grab my boots. I throw some socks and boots over my feet and nod to my small bag sitting by my door. “If you could be so kind and take that down to my gelding. He is tied at the inn, the spotted blue roan. His name is Hamish.” I order, standing as I start opening a side pack, counting coins mindlessly. Space. I needed space to wake up.

“Am I selling thee my soul as well?” He complains, grabbing the pack on his way out of the door, sending a vaguely shocked look my way at the seemingly weightlessness of the bag. It would almost be believable if I didn’t hear the smile in his voice as he spoke the words.

“Whose acting like the child now, Jaskier?” I call after him lazily, grabbing only the essentials off the top of my dresser. With my mother’s wedding ring finding its way around my neck, my father’s dagger slipped inside my side pack for protection while carrying Maddox’s gloves I stand and take a last look around the small crowded room I’ve come to call home. I’ve spent five years of my life here, surviving while trying to live. I grab my long cloak from beside my dresser, tying it around my throat as I think of all that I truly am leaving behind, and realize it’s not much. If anything at all.

I take a deep breath before I place the gloves inside my pack as well, tying my hair at the nape of my neck. Hopefully Jaskier won’t tire of me easily, not even after I become a nuisance. _The air doesn’t feel as light without the bard around._

The steps feel as if they are made of ice as I stumble down them as I step outside, the rain the night before slickening the path to the inn. Now the trick is to get the least amount of mud possible on myself while getting across town. Great. I take a step into the dark sludge and wince internally while sighing, hating the feel of the wet ground beneath my feet. Felt too much like the past.

“I hear li’le ol’ Ely’s lea’ing us.” I hear Theodora say from behind, a harshness to her shrill voice. I turn on my heel and look her way, a small smile finding its way to my face as I stare at the white blonde woman for a moment. I didn’t know what to say, I hadn’t planned that far ahead.

“I’m either little or old, I can’t be both.” I retort, trying to avoid the inevitable for as long as I could. Maybe if I didn’t say out loud that I was leaving, she wouldn’t be mad. She rolled her eyes at me as she walked towards yours truly, linking arms as she drags me towards the inn, sighing in defeat.

“Ya could’ a jus’ tol’ me. Would’ a loved to hear it from ya instea ‘a him.” She exacerbates, giggling softly into my ear. 

“Him?” I question, pulling on her arm, slowing our pace as we come around the corner towards the inn. Too soon, I couldn’t part with her yet. How could I ever part from the kind soul that tried to help me?

“Your bard.” She enunciates with a smile, her green eyes sparkling in amusement. 

“My-my bard? No, no I do not own him. H-he is his own.” I deny, head high as I continue forward, cheeks reddening as we continue towards our goal. Theo laughs at my expense, getting her fill if you ask me. We come closer with each step, and soon her laughter fades. We both stop and watch as Jaskier ties my bag and his own onto Hamish, sending a small smile our way when he spies us standing there. We smile and wave back, still not moving or making a noise until we both see Geralt exit, causing us to sigh. The silence is comforting, lets me know that she isn’t too mad at me. At least she didn’t think this far ahead either, thinking of a lecture to give me on our way over.

Geralt sees us and starts walking after throwing something to Jaskier, causing Theo to wrap her arms around me, pulling me tightly against her small, frail body. She pushed her face as far as it could into my hair as she stifled a cry, one wrapping itself around even tighter around my middle while the other holds the back of my head steady.

“Promise me tha you’ll protect yerself. Even from tha Doxie, if ya ‘ave ta.” Theo mutters into my hair softly. I grab her and hold just as tight as I take a sharp breath, feeling as if she just punched me in the gut, a cold feeling seeping from my chest and over my being. “ _Promise_.”

“I promise.” I whisper, closing my eyes as Geralt gets close. He stands a respectable distance away while we finish our goodbyes and wipe each other’s tears from our faces. When did I start to cry? She turns to him abruptly, head high as she fishes a coin pouch from her bust. I have never seen such a look of feral maternity on anyone and it sent a fresh wave of tears to my eyes when I realize that she feels that way about _me_.

“To assure her safety.” She addresses the Witcher, gaze never wavering as she hands him the hefty leather pouch. He regards it carefully while opening the gift, fingering through to count before he glances at Theo, then myself. 

“Let’s get a move on.” Geralt’s voice rumbles, nodding towards Theodora as we pass. I smile a watery smile as I walk by her, not daring to look back as the wet earth squelches beneath my feet. I almost slip as I get to Jas and Hamish, Jaskier’s arm reaching out to help steady me. He smiles warmly at me in comfort and I feel the cold slowly dissipate from my body. If only he knew his effect on me. He mounts Hamish before me, an arm extended to help me up. I roll my eyes before I accept his offer, hoisting myself up before I slip my thighs against his, arms around his middle with my front pressed against his back.

His body is warm and firm against mine, a stark contrast to the cold permeating all around us. I shiver slightly at just how warm he is, arms tightening slightly as I press the side of my face into his shoulder, lungs once again filling with the distinct scent that never leaves him. _Dandelions and lavender_. The fabric of Jaskier’s outer coat isn’t the softest in the world although the amount of heat that pours from him is well worth the slight itchy feeling it leaves behind. I sigh in comfort, relaxing wholly against him as we follow Geralt on his next venture, and all I can do is smile into Jaskier’s back.

_I could get used to travelling like this._

“Are you comfortable back there?” Jaskier taunts softly and I could feel his chest rumble through my front. I’m thankful that he can’t see the flush rising to my cheeks as I press my face harder into his shoulder, embarrassed at getting caught.

“Getting there, thank you for asking.” I retort, squirming to prove my point. I was already comfortable, although he didn’t need to know that little tidbit of information. I can feel the soft rumble of his chuckle through our bodies and it fills me with a new warmth, spreading through my veins like wildfire. “Where are we headed?” I ask him, turning my head towards his neck. Jaskier shrugs slightly as we follow Geralt, nodding up at him.

“Wherever he is. He _wreaks_ of adventure; can’t you smell it?” Jaskier asks as he turns towards me, eyes bright with a large smile on his face. The joy it brings him, the smile he wears. I can’t help the smile my face mirrors and hope my eyes shine half as bright as his does in that moment as a reply passes my lips before I can even think.

“No, but I trust you.” I confess honestly, voice almost breathless. Jaskier simply smiles brightly for a moment before he nods at me, turning his attention to the Witcher in front of us, continuing to nod his head.

“Good, that’s-that’s good.” Jaskier clears his throat as he tightens his grip on the reins and I laugh at his reaction causing Geralt to turn and look back at us.

“Everything okay back there?” He calls back, giving Jaskier a knowing look. We both nod at him and I place my head back at its comfortable spot on his shoulder, reveling in his warmth once more. We ride for a while more, I’m not sure how much longer, before I close my eyes. It isn’t long before I fall asleep, the warmth and smell emanating from him being to familiar and comforting to resist.


	3. Into the Calm and the Quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed after I published online that I didn't proofread the entire thing and part of the dialogue doesn't have the right description. I wrote it down in the comments but I'm too lazy to go back and edit the actual thing but I edited it on tumblr so. Yeah. Hope you guys enjoy it!!!

No, but I trust you.  
The words echo around in his head and he’s beyond grateful that she allowed him to accompany her on Hamish, he didn’t know what he would’ve looked like if he was walking at that exact moment. Many people had said a great many things to him over the years, but trust, trust was so hard for him to come by and she just gave it to him so freely.  
I trust you.  
Thank the Gods he got onto the damn horse before she had. How embarrassing would that have been to have a hard on pressed right into her ass when those words had poured out of her mouth so smoothly like the purest nectar? Even now, her hair would tickle his neck every once in a great while when the wind would blow a certain way and all that enveloped his senses was roses and honey and suddenly, it was like his dick had a mind of its own like he was a fucking child all over again.   
I trust you.  
Spheres preserve him. He was fucked. Truly, royally fucked in the ass.   
I trust you.  
Fuck.  
“You’re quiet.” Geralt broke the silence. Was he? Jaskier took a moment before humming a tune under his breath to appease the grouchy man, trying to think of anything, anything other than the slim woman holding onto him before clearing his throat. Words. Geralt spoke words to him, he should be responding, shouldn’t he? Geralt only looked over at the bard before looking back at Elowyn who was tucked up tightly against Jaskier, fast asleep. “You told me of her father. Her brother. Never her.” Jaskier stiffened under Elowyn before looking over his shoulder unexpectedly, concerned, before he realized the obvious. She was still fast asleep beside him and completely oblivious to their interaction. Good. He didn’t want her to take offense where none needed taken.  
I trust you.  
“We all have chapters we do not read aloud, Geralt.” Jaskier was more than aware of the weary look Geralt gave him but decided to ignore it as he kept his attention forward. One of his hands dropped to where Elowyn’s were wrapped around his torso and he embraced her wrists softly as his thumb brushed against her wrist absentmindedly, lovingly almost, as if to reassure himself that she was there; as if the weight of her on his back, her steady breathing against him wasn’t enough for Jaskier to truly believe she was there.   
“Leaving to travel wasn’t an easy decision.” Geralt stated as Jaskier’s grip tightened. No, no it wasn’t. Single handedly, one of the hardest decisions of my life.  
No, but I trust you.  
I’ll miss you, you little devil.  
Goddammit, get a hold of yourself Jaskier.  
“I was always to leave. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’. Only ‘when’.” Jaskier lied through his teeth. If Geralt caught the lie, which he did, he didn’t mention it to the bard. The Witcher merely nodded towards Jaskier in understanding before they travelled in blessed silence once again, leaving each other to their thoughts.  
Does she ever think of their last day? Under the tree, the moon being their only light in the sky?  
No.   
Why would she? She had a life to live in a warm home where she wouldn’t have a worry in the world to a man who could never want any but her because that’s what she deserved, and he had a Continent to travel and sing about full of adventure and that was their destiny.  
That was their destiny.   
Was that his destiny?  
Can you smell it?  
No, but I trust you.  
He could remember her face so clearly, how could he not see just how fucked he was since the beginning? He remembers hugging her tight against him, hurting his arms afterwards as he walked away. Jaskier remembers how his knuckles bled after she ran, he had punched their tree.  
I trust you.  
He looked down at the skinny silver scar that ran down his middle finger, knuckle to mid-finger, can almost feel the blood rushing out onto the back of his hands at the sight of her running, crying because of him.  
Jaskier was just waiting for Elowyn to ask to come along. Why didn’t she ask? Why had he never gone home? Jaskier knew the answer to that. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to walk away a second time, her being latched onto his back only being a small testament to that fact.   
I’ll make you famous, little devil.  
I trust you.  
He had thought of going home many times, but the same scenario had always played out horribly in his mind’s eye and he always talked himself out of the thought before it even began. He usually ended up in some woman’s bed on those nights after drinking too much wine, burying himself in the loveliest of his muses, chasing the smells of roses and honey.   
No, but I trust you.

Poor little Ely, they say.  
Little Ely, little plain, boring Ely with her dark hair and eyes and light skin. She didn’t have big brown eyes either, although they weren’t small tiny orbs. Just small enough to make a difference to the other girls. The other girls with their fair hair and blue eyes. Eyes like the far seas that tasted of salt. Daddy always said that the sea tasted of salt.   
Oh, what poor little Ely wouldn’t do to have blue eyes. Blue like Jaskier. Here she is, crying her eyes red in the boring dark mud that matches her boring dark eyes and her boring dark hair.   
“Elowyn? Elowyn, is that you?” Jaskier runs up to me, his long hair tied behind his neck as he crouches beside me. I hide your face in my knees, not wanting to see his angel eyes. I can feel the rage swell in my chest as he nears, not at him per say, but at his kindness. How could an angel like him be with an average, boring girl like me?  
“This is none of your business!” I yell, flinching from his kind touch. He sighs as he plops beside me, picking up a stick. He waits for me to stop crying, the cries turning into hiccups before he pokes me softly with the stick. I refuse to look at him still, making him sigh before he scoots closer, placing an arm around my shoulders and bringing me closer to him, my bent frame tucked into his chest in a half-hug.  
“I’m only eleven. You’re ten. I can wait for a long time.” Jaskier threatens lightly. A wave of wet anger floods me at his words. How can he wait for a long time when my problem is forever?  
“What do you see?” I ask as I look up at him, voice hoarse, cheeks wet and warm from crying. Jaskier takes a breath before answering, taking this time to tuck some hair behind my ear.  
“I see… A very… Sad girl…” He says tentatively and I swat at him as I scoot away from him, placing space between us. I needed space to think.   
“I’m ordinary. I’m plain, I’m like the fucking air. Brown hair, brown eyes. Who wants what everybody already has?!” I yell as I stand. Jaskier sighs as he shakes his head at me, rising himself to calm me.  
“Have you been listening to that Jarsdel girl again? You know she’s- “Jaskier raises his hands in mock surrender as he slowly approaches me, but I lash out anyways, hitting at him. He dodges me easily as he is much taller than me already, taking a step back.   
“Right. She’s fucking right Jaskier. No ma-“I cut myself off with a humorless laugh. Jaskier only looks to me with empathy in his eyes as I shake my head at him. I must look a sight. Hair plastered to a sticky red face, a boring sticky red face. Oh, sweet, sweet angel. “Tell me. How many love songs have a maiden with brown eyes?” Silence. Jaskier looks at her in silence as he mulls her question, mind running through every song he knows. He can see the anger flash in her eyes, sparks flaring, and he could see the tiny devils dancing, he could see it all, and spheres he could- he could-  
“I could write one.” He offers. He can see the anger tamed as the sentiment of his words register into her young mind. “I could write a song about how demons only light fires in eyes of darkness.” Of how their fires are so addicting, how I could watch the world burn in your eyes. He sees her flush before she wipes at her cheeks, sniffling before nodding.  
“I-I guess that can be acceptable.” I mumble as I look at my feet, the redness in my cheeks now there for a completely different reason. Is this what butterflies felt like? Why is my heart pounding this hard? Jaskier just said that he would write a love song about a girl like me, not for-  
Thud.  
“Shit! Are you okay?” My head falls off a very warm shoulder, whipping my front half forwards. I almost slide off the horse as Jaskier’s hand tightens around my wrists, tugging me back to where I was originally seated.  
“Yeah, thanks. Sorry.” I apologize as I place my head back on his shoulder, my nose tucked in towards his neck as I pull the hood of my cloak on. The cold air had turned my nose pink, and his neck radiated warmth. I hummed slightly as the tip of my nose collided with the outline of the skin exposed at the base of his neck lightly, my nose burning at the sensation.   
“Truth or dare?” He suddenly asks, his tone rich and deep in front of me. I smile fondly as I thumb the fabric of his shirt between my fingers gently, mulling over my choices.  
“Truth.” I eventually answer quietly, eyes closed as my nose is still turned into his neck. I feel the vibrations through his back more than hear them through the air as he chuckles, his long hair at the nape of his neck tickling my nose as he shakes his head.  
“Never were a risk taker. Tell me a secret.” My eyes open at his statement, and I still my fingers in his shirt at his words.   
“What kind of secret?”   
“Any kind.” I would not change a thing about you for all the chaos in the world. Your existence is a paradox, a joy, a contradiction I could spend my life studying and appreciating without ever getting bored. My breath stuttered in my chest as impossible thoughts race though my head. I couldn’t tell him any of that. That could ruin everything.  
“I don’t have any secrets.” I boldly reply, false bravado in my voice as I sit straight, placing space between my front and his back. The move was subtle, but I could tell that Jaskier could sense the slight tension it caused. He peers over his shoulder at me with an encouraging smile, so small but bright. How could I say no to an angel such as that?  
“Bullshit. That’s a lie, everyone has secrets.” You have haunted my thoughts and dreams since I was a child. I have memorized the slant of your brow, the way breathe when you sing, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps. I would know you blind, deaf, numb in this world and any other. Now, now is as good of a time as any. If I could just-just get the words-  
“Alright, here’s a secret. I am afraid.”   
“Of what exactly? You can’t just say that to someone- “Scrunching his shoulders he turns and pretends to throw hair over his shoulder in a high pitch voice- “‘I’m afraid’”-I laugh at the sight. Who wouldn’t? - “and not provide any supporting details.”   
Eternity. Oblivion. Crowded rooms and authority figures and being alone too long and you. I’m terrified of you because you have the power to destroy me and you don’t even know it. You have no idea. I’m less afraid of dying than I am of losing you and that scares me too. He sounds irritated. Should I not? Maybe now, I shouldn’t say anything? Fuck, I’ve waited too long-again-  
“Spiders.” The word came out of my mouth before my brain had enough time to think of how his eyes looked mine, of how his breathing may have stuttered just as much my own.   
“You’re joking?” Jaskier smiles broadly as he physically turned, and I can feel myself breathe again. Dandelions and lavender. This must be the breath of adventure.  
“No, really. It’s the legs, I think. And the eyes. There are eight fucking eyes, Jaskier. Eight.” I ramble, placing my hands on his arms to steady myself. I look around us on the almost-overgrown trail, finally taking in our surroundings, and notice something odd. “Where’s Geralt?”  
“Ah. The White Wolf has ridden ahead onto the trail to set up camp.” He explains, turning rigid under my grasp. I smirk at him as he turns, leading Hamish along.  
“Truth or dare.”   
“Truth.”   
“You accused me of not being a risk taker, Bard. Your excuse is?” I ask him, dropping my hand to pinch his stomach while keeping my tone light. Jaskier softens under my touch as he laughs into the air.   
“Is that your question?” He asks in return, sneaking a hand down to pinch my knee that was sitting along his thigh. I smack his shoulder lightly, mumbling ‘cheater’ under my breath as I think of a real question to ask him.  
“What is a kiss to you?” The question slithers out passed my lips without my mind’s permission.  
“A kiss?”  
“Yes, a kiss. You know, the ones you sing of in your songs.” I tease, a smile never leaving my face as I giggle at his antics. He could be so dimwitted at times, it amazes me.  
“I know what a kiss is, thank you.” Jaskier throws backs, straightening his shoulders in faux embarrassment. We laugh lightly before a calmness surrounds us. “A kiss… I think a kiss is the most pure and raw form of physical contact there could ever be.” I scoff lightly at the vagueness of his answer, rolling my eyes, knowing full well he couldn’t see me in that moment.  
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course. How silly of me. Please don’t bother to explain.” I sarcastically mumble into his shoulder, tone light with a smirk on my face.  
“If you would just let me finish, you devil woman.” The rumble from deep within  
“Alright, I’m sorry! Please, continue.”  
“Sex is intimate, sure, but you can have sex with anyone. A kiss though. A small touch between two pairs of lips as soft as petals can blow your mind. Whether it be short and sweet, or long and intense. And when you find someone that looks at you like you’re more beautiful than a blossoming rose; you’ll never want to feel another’s pressed against your lips ever again.”  
“Must you always sound so lyrical? It’s like everything you say has yet to be sung.”  
“I can write great ones, you know.” ‘I could write one’ I hear a young Jaskier echo in the far reaches of my mind and it brings a fond smile to my face. I place my forehead onto his shoulder for a moment and smile into his shoulder, childlike laughter bubbling up at the memory.  
“So, I’ve heard.” I puff, his singing drowning out my words.  
“The better sex, they often call them” He sings, well attempts. Jaskier brings his arms up as he mentally writes the song in his head, and I laugh at the familiar sight before me.  
“Ew, no, Jaskier, that’s God awful.” The laughter never leaves as I comment his word choice, how could he have come up with that?  
“Alright, then. Fairer. The fairer sex, they often call them; But her love is as unfair as a crook-” Jaskier’s singing is deeper, tone richer as he sings more confidently this time. This is where he shines. Basking under her warm smile in the cool air on the back of the horse on some trail behind his Witcher, it was the best adventure Jaskier’s been on in years.   
“That sounds better.” I compliment, whether it was his words or singing, I’m not sure.  
“Of course, it does, I wrote it!” He boasts, chest puffed as his words inflate the air in his head. The ego this man has of himself, one none other to blame than his father, makes me laugh as the familiarity vibrates through my core. Soon the laughter dies into quiet, comfortable silence, the air still large with his ego and light with my happiness.  
“Does she have brown eyes?” I ask as we go around a corner, and everything changes.  
Silence.  
The cold finally sets in as Jaskier goes rigid under my touch, back straightened out and moved forward slightly away from me as we see a horse tied to a tree not far ahead.  
“I see Roach.” Jaskier points, and I feel all the happiness drain at the sound of his words.  
“Oh.”   
Geralt already had two tents set up when we arrived and a small fire going. He was attending his own weapons when we approached, and hardly looked up in acknowledgement when we tied Hamish to the tree accompanying Roach.  
“I see you got our tents set up.” Jaskier says enthusiastically as he walks over to the tents, stretching his legs as he grabs his little notebook from his pack.   
“No.” Geralt grumbles, tossing Jaskier his own tent. He looks down at the piece of the equipment on the ground as if it personally offended him as the Witcher turns back to Roach, hands on his hips. Jaskier kept his angel gaze on the tent before he turned back to Geralt, lips pursed in disagreement to the Witcher’s reluctance to help.  
“As I seem to recall, ‘setting up camp’ meant for everyone.” Jaskier specifies, toeing the tent at his feet. The Witcher only seemed to roll his eyes at the Bard in irritation and continued with his task, unfazed.  
“No.”   
“Geralt, I’m starting to feel attacked.” Jaskier continues, taking a step towards him. Geralt finally turns towards the Bard with a sigh and another roll of his eyes. Keep doing that, and he will get those feline orbs stuck back there.  
“And?” He asks lazily, a smug smirk making its way onto his face. Jaskier goes to argue before I scoff at the two men, gaining their attention before I walk over to grab the damn tent myself from between them.  
“Fucking men acting like children.” I mutter under my breath as I walk to the opposite side where the other two were not and pitched my own tent away from the two children so that I may get some peace at some point in the night.  
The fire had been burning for some time into the night. Jaskier and Geralt had been sitting by their tents, Jaskier mumbling lyrics into his lute while writing them down while Geralt tended to the warm flames. I sat in silence listening to the soft wildlife around me, the birds and insects buzzing in the overgrown weeds around us.  
“A storm breaking on the horizon; Of longing, and heartache and- and- “Jaskier mumbles as he scribbles words in his little leather book, eyes furrowing in frustration. He hums the chord a few times, charcoal forgotten on his knee as he continues strumming lightly on his lute.  
The red and orange flames dance lightly around us, enveoloping us in their warmth as Geralt comes to sit by me. We sit in comfortable silence, him drinking from his pouch while I snacked from a dried fruit pouch Jaskier threw my way once the sun started to set.  
“He can be quite compelling when he wants to be.” Geralt breaks the silence first with warming words. His tone is as warm as the fire dancing around us, making me nod up at him, smiling politely as I continue watching Jaskier play his instrument.  
“Jaskier has always had a way with words.” I agree, basking in the feelings around me. I relish in the warmth of the fire, scooting a bit closer to the warm flames until I can almost feel the warmth scorch the skin of my legs, the sensation grounding me to reality.  
“Who is ‘Doxie’?” Geralt asks suddenly, and I feel all the warmth leave. The scorching that was once on my skin fades, the red and orange flames dancing around me still as I look sharply at the silver haired man, Jaskier’s singing long forgotten. I blink at the man in indignation, how dare he-  
“Geralt! Listen to this!” Jaskier yells as he jumps over my seated form, sitting himself next to Geralt, ignoring the shared looks between us. He begins singing the same song from earlier, the love song of a girl with maybe brown eyes and I just can’t help but to think that I am fucked.   
I am fucked.  
I am royally fucked in the ass.


	4. Master Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just as a warning she does have a panic attack in this chapter. I have them frequently, and this is how I experience them sometimes. I also including a safe way to work through a panic attack.
> 
> If you suffer from mental illness and need someone to reach out to, I'm always here to talk and a safe number to call is 1-800-273-8255 (For the US)  
> Hotline: +44 (0) 8457 90 90 90  
> Hotline: +44 (0) 8457 90 91 92  
> Hotline: 1850 60 90 90 
> 
> Would rather have it and not need it, and need it and not have it! Much love to all!

“ _The fairer sex they often call them: But her love is as unfair as a crook: It steals all my reason, commits every treason, of logic: With nothing but a look_ -” Jaskier strums the lute gracefully as he sits squished between us, staring down at the leather bound journal balancing precariously on his knee closest to my shoulder. I level it with a touch of my finger out of habit, spreading my thumb and forefinger over the top as I lift it slightly off his knee and closer to his face while I continue to stare into the yellow-like flames. “ _A storm breaking on the horizon: Of longing and heartache and lust_ ,” My eyes flicker over to Jaskier as he sings, his eyes squinting as he reads his scribbled writing in the tiny book between my fingers.

His voice. It could bring any man, woman or child to their knees. My sweet angel.

“ _She’s always bad news: It’s always lose-lose: So, tell me, love: Tell me, love: How is that just-_ ” I look over at Geralt and already see his gaze upon me and turn my eyes back to the fire, letting Jaskier wrap his sweet words around me and whisk me far away for this moment. His timing was impeccable, as always, when he interrupted. Thank the Gods for that, I’ve had enough dread to last a lifetime.

 _"But the story is this: She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss: Her sweet kiss: The story is this: She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_ ,” I smile as I scoot back slightly, leaning my back on Jaskier’s legs as I lift the book higher, pulling my lip between my teeth as I close my eyes. Maybe Jaskier’s song could bring me some peace. It sounded like one of love.

“ _Her current is pulling you closer: A charge in the hot, humid night: The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool: Better stay out of si-ight_!” He finishes with a little flourish, muttering some words, something of a jury and judge as he takes the journal from my hand hastily, practically shoving me forward as he places the book back on his knee. “It’s not _quite_ finished yet, bu- “

“I thought that you don’t sing love songs.” Geralt interjects, and I open my eyes to give him an incredulous look. _That disrespectful little_ shit.

“I think that it’s beautiful, Jaskier. Any woman would love to be compared to the sea.” My response was automatic. The compliment rolled off my tongue fluidly as I continue to glare at Geralt, my gaze never wavering in intensity as Jaskier continues to scribble in his little book, seemingly unawares to the brewing chaos around him.

“Even if the song is a warning to stay away?” Geralt fires back steadily, eyes piercing as they stare back at me. I sit straighter as I square my shoulders at the man, standing my ground. If Jaskier wasn’t afraid of him, then I had no reason to be either. _Grouchy, yes. But never unreasonable_. That’s how Jaskier once described him, and now I see how _wrong_ he was.

“Maybe the warning isn’t to stay away from her. He just said, ‘ _stay out of sight_ ’. Could mean anything.” I reason, leaning back onto Jaskier for pure comfort, Jas moving onto his other leg to write on automatically to accommodate my seating arrangement _. Old habits die hard, it seems_. If Geralt would stop talking I could close my eyes and it would feel almost familiar. Almost.

“It could also mean exactly as it sounds. You just may not have enough plain _common sense_ to understand the simplicity of his words.” The Witcher didn’t trust me. His words articulated that fact quite clearly in this moment, but that was fine by me. I don’t need him to trust me, I have Jaskier.

“Or quite possibly you just don’t understand because you can’t get _shit_ in life from anyone without having to pay for it, or so I assume, with everyone fucking hating you as they do, _Butcher_.” I snap at him, my annoyance bubbling over as ire courses its way through my being. The glare he gives me could kill and I’m sure if his eyes held that very power I would be dead where I sit in front of Jaskier by the fire on some unmarked trail.

“Ladies shouldn’t curse.” Geralt chastises, changing the subject with his tone icy as winter as he speaks. Gone is the friendly Geralt from earlier and before me sits a stone cold Witcher, one from the lullaby that my mother would tell me to scare me into not getting out of my bed at night. Maybe my mother was right and Witchers had no feelings, their only care gold to keep them moving.

But then again maybe she was wrong, and I hurt him.

“Go _fuck_ thyself.”

The response was an answer to more than just this one comment, the vehemence behind my words making that exceedingly clear. Geralt blinked in momentary surprise, the taciturn expression dropping from his face as he continues to scowl at me while I smirked at him in small victory. I could still feel the pure ire course it’s way through my veins, a fire spreading as our eyes stayed locked, not daring to be the first to submit by looking away. He wanted to play, fine.

_Let’s play._

“Are you two done bickering like an old married couple?” Jaskier teases with a small smile pointed in my direction, taking our little argument as friendly bickering as he looks up from his song book. Was he truly oblivious to the situation in its entirety?

_I surely wasn’t._

Scoffing at Jaskier, a tense silence falling over us as I give him a side eye instead for a moment, waiting for the mood to set in around us. The small smile falls from Jas’ face slowly as the tension finally sets with him, his eyes losing their brilliant shine once he realizes that my anger had turned to him. By then, damage was already done.

I stand and make my way to my lonely tent needing some well-deserved space after that frightful incident, leaving a sputtering Jaskier behind me as I throw a haphazard ‘goodnight’ over my shoulder before I lay on the cold ground. My arms had found themselves wrapped around myself in comfort as I wish for the ground to open wide to swallow me whole- possibly piece by piece if Mother’s lullaby of Witcher’s were right.

 _He'll_ chop _and_ slice _you,_

_Cut and dice you,_

_Eat you up whole,_

_Eat. You. Whole._

“El-Elowyn, come on, now. Geralt-Geralt was just being _cynical_ , is all. Trying to make me think outside of the box, he-he doesn’t mean anything by it. I swear. There’s a tough critic in every bunch, I don’t even pay him much mind any longer,” Jaskier coaxes as he interrupts my thoughts from outside the flaps, his shadows enlarged and dancing across the tent in front of me. I sigh as I shake my head, a hole appearing in my chest.

Going back out means confronting my past. Going back out means making Jaskier _happy_.

Staying means thinking of what to say on another day and disappointing the one person that I have in my life.

The thoughts swirl through my mind, crushing it against the outer reaches of my skull until I feel the pain in the roots in my hair as I lay there, Jaskier unmoving from his spot at the entrance of my tent. He would stand there all night until I gave him a response, we both knew that. What was I going to say to him? What _could_ I say?

“Goodnight, Jaskier.” I repeat softly, voice as cold as the ground I lay on as my arms wrap tighter around me, trying to keep some semblance of warmth in. Maybe if I squeezed myself tighter, the hole in my chest would get smaller.

“Elowyn… I… Goodnight.” His voice sounds defeated as he walks away. With every step that he takes, the hole in my chest widens until the hole swallows every fiber of my being inside in a swirl of dark emptiness. It’s vast, and unending and so damn dark.

I’m not ready for this, I’m not ready for _her._

 _Maybe I_ shouldn’t _have come on this adventure._

“Pray tell, Geralt. What the _fuck_ was that?” Jaskier asks quietly as he walks back to the fire, standing behind Geralt with his hands on his hips. Well, Geralt _assumes_ his hands are on his hips, he hasn’t turned to check yet. He keeps sipping on his whiskey from the small pouch he carries with him, eyes trained on the flames flickering. The occasional pop crackling from the fire playing as simple background noise to his thoughts as he ignores the rambling bard behind his back, his senses more focused on the small thing curled up behind them.

The girl had obvious trust issues, the choice of sleeping arrangement told him that much. Geralt wasn’t complaining about it in-and-of-itself, although he would rather have her near him where he could asses the danger if need be. Just because the Bard trusted the dainty girl, didn’t mean the Witcher did.

There was also the fact that she wasn’t as forthcoming about this ‘Doxie’ as he hoped. In fact, just the mention of this character had seemed to set a fuse off in her eyes, one that unsettled him.

A fuse that was seemingly easy to ignite.

_Something wasn’t right._

“Geralt!” Jaskier asks again, louder this time, as he comes to stand in front of the White Wolf hands on his hips. Geralt smirks a bit at his pose, one he knew too well as he took another greedy, greedy sip knowing full-well that Jaskier wasn’t going to like this conversation any more than Geralt himself. Jaskier was emotionally invested, and once he had his mind set on something nothing would change it. Most times, not even Geralt. Hence the unspoken, unofficial title of ‘ _bodyguard_ ’ between two old friends.

Well, sometimes.

Only when it benefitted both parties.

“She’s hiding something.” He relented as he continued to examine the flames, eyebrows furrowing as his thoughts kept racing, trying to puzzle together the enigma that is becoming Elowyn. Jaskier scoffs rather obnoxiously in front of Geralt, swiping the whiskey from him as he resumes his spot next to the Witcher before he takes a hearty chug.

“Well, of _course_ she’s hiding something. I could’ve told you that, if you would’ve just asked. No need to go and _torment_ the poor thing. I’ve known the girl since she was growing in her mother. Her tells are the same as ever. If she were in that kind of trouble, she would tell me. She would never-”- _keep that from me_. Jaskier sighs as he runs a hand over his face, shoulders slumping as he rests his elbows on his knees as his gazes falls on the dwindling flames before him. “She’s a _good_ girl, Geralt.” His tone is small, as small as he feels inside. He knew something was wrong when she acted weird earlier that day, playing their game. Afraid of spiders, he knew she was afraid of spiders. It was because of him and his silly, idiotic tricks as a child that she was afraid of spiders to begin with.

“Five years can change a person, Jaskier. You can’t be sure- “ _Doubt._ Geralt is trying to cause doubt in his mind.

“Yes, yes I _can_.” Jaskier interrupts as he stands, effectively silencing the Witcher for a moment with his solid persistence as he holds Geralt’s gaze firmly. He lets out a humorless chuckle, a very _unhappy_ smile adorning his face as Geralt purses his lips, golden gaze glaring up at the Bard, eyebrows furrowed still as he sits before the much younger man. Geralt was trying to talk _common sense_ into him, why couldn’t he _see_ that? “And I am telling you, here and _now_ \- with every God that _is_ and _never was_ as witness, that I trust her with my _life_. That’s the end of it. End of conversation.” Jaskier finishes with finality, thrusting the drink back at his companion.

“Jaskier- “Geralt drops his glare as he takes the pouch dejectedly, his tone bordering defensiveness as Jaskier holds a hand to stop his friend. There was nothing the Witcher could say to remedy the situation that this has become, and the only thing Jaskier could do from here is damage control.

“End. Of conversation.” Jaskier reiterates, bending to pick up his lute and book as he stands tall, back straight as he sighs. He shakes his head slightly as he looks Geralt in the eye, a look of sadness clouding his gaze.

A look Geralt has never seen from the singer.

“ _Just_ -Just--Fuck, _deireádh het aep het ess (End it as it is),_ Geralt.” Jaskier pleads while shrugging slightly, scratching the back of his neck nervously before turning to walk towards his own tent, leaving Geralt on the log as he goes with his thoughts of Elowyn and how he was going to _fix this_. Geralt sat for a moment before he took another solid pull from the whiskey, relishing in the warmth of the drink as it spread through his chest, the dying fire turning to warm embers at his feet as he watches Jaskier’s retreating back vanish into his tent for the night.

 _That was… Well quite frankly, that was pitiful on_ my _part at best_.

“Fuck.”

_“_ Beware the patient woman: For this I know _,” Jaskier sings, sweat clinging to his brow as we dance circles around one another, making me laugh as my brother catches my eye over the crowd. The room was spinning even though I had come to a stop, a heat circulating through me as I fan myself, wishing I had kept my har tied rather than listening to my mother as Jas continues singing, going to sit on the stool he claimed earlier in the evening._

_“Happy birthday. Ely!” Maddox said as he handed me a gorgeous dark blue rose. I smiled broadly at him while I grabbed it with clumsy hands, the drinks from tonight catching up with me. The night was still young, but I was already drunk. Maybe too drunk. Swaying on my feet, Maddox seemed to have noticed and chuckled down at me while shaking his head, grabbing my elbow lightly._

“A little wicked: That’s what she calls me _,” Jaskier sings cheerfully as Maddox steers me by the elbow towards the door, the rose finding its way towards my sniffer. So pretty. “_ Cause that’s what I am: That’s what I am- _” Jaskier’s voice is muffled as we exit and my brother leans me against the side of the building, the cold rocks grounding me slightly as I giggle up at my older brother. He smiles back down at me, dark green eyes sparkling in amusement as his red hair sticks to his forehead._

_“Thank you, Maddy. Smells pretty.” I tell him as I shove the rose in his face, rather violently, trying to show him how pretty she smelled. He laughs, swatting the rose away gently with a look of annoyance of his face. It made me laugh. Maddox annoyed. His eyebrows made wrinkles on his forehead that made a face, which never ceased to humor me._

_“You were doing it again.” He taunts. steadying me as I giggle, bringing the rose up to my nose to take a whiff. It smelled so darling; I could smell it forever._

_“Hmm? Doing what?” I ask, sobering up slightly as the breeze picked up around us, the skirt of my dress billowing slightly in the wind. I sniff from the rose again, stepping from the wall causing Maddox to take a step back, hands out to grab me if I started to stumble._

_“Staring at him, Elowyn. You were staring at Julian all night. Practically drooling like a hungry animal. I should know I’ve seen my fair share of hungry ani- “_

_“It’s_ Jaskier _, Maddox.” I correct, finger coming up to silence him. He laughs as he catches my wrist easily, holding it by my side when I try to break it from his grasp. I started swaying again, trying to keep in time with the swaying of the world around us. The trees seemed to bend behind his shoulders, I could see the leaves dancing in the wind, and I want to dance with them, but Maddox wouldn’t let me. He gripped my wrist tighter, his other hand coming up to grab my shoulder to keep me in place as he sighed, his other hand running over his face in annoyance. Again._

 _“Jaskier then,” He relents, rolling his eyes at me. “you were staring at_ Jaskier _, Elowyn Vernissier-”_

_“S’not my fault he has pretty eyes. Pretty jokes, too.”_

_“Pretty jokes? Pox, Elowyn you really do have it bad, don’t you?”_

_“I’m gonna ask to travel with him. Mmhm, travel. Like you.” I confess breathlessly, the alcohol bearing down on my inhibitions as I push myself from him and walk on my own. I am my own woman. I dance with the trees then, doing as I please as I giggle into the dark night, Maddox once again grabbing my wrist sharply. It’s in a swift motion as he turns me around, one too fast for me to understand I can only_ feel _as I find myself pressed nose-to-chest and all I can do is stare feebly as the grip turns to steel on my wrist, making me cry out a little._

_“NO!” Maddox shouts forcefully, causing me to step and yank on my arm instinctively. He stalks forward, almost as a predator as I stare helplessly, the air being squeezed from my lungs. There is nothing that could have prepared me for this, there’s no way I could’ve known-_

_I must get out of here._

_This wasn’t_ my _brother._

 _The worrying, sure. The wild, panicked look in his eye. The animal within snarling beneath with its heavy breath, raging war within his mind and taking control? No. My brother was many things, but he was never an animal before he left, and he wouldn’t be now. He was still in there and if I look close enough in the dark flecks of green and gold-_ there, _yes, there. I can see him-_

 _“What? “The word sounds dejected, dead even to my own ears as it hangs between us. He has a feral look in his eyes as he takes a step closer, that fleeting moment of innocence gone as I mirror his actions in fear._ A scared animal is an unpredictable animal.

 _“You_ can’t _.”_ His _voice is deep and penetrating, he’s standing so close now I can feel the words vibrate through his chest._ Do not look away, it’s a sign of weakness.

_“W-Why? Why can’t I? It’s my life.”_

_“You don’t know what happens to pretty little things like you out there, Elowyn.”_

_“Maddox stop it. You’re-You’re scari-”_

_“I’ve seen things. Done things, Ely. Terrible things. You’ll promise me that you won’t ask him, yeah?”_

_“You’re hurting me: let_ go _of m-”_

_“Ely, please. The things I’ve done. There are men who eat pretty little things like you up and spit you out like you are nothing. To them you are-”_

_“Maddy, stop. That hur-”_

_“nothing, I mean. Elowyn, you can’t leave. You won’t make it on your own; promise you won’t leave. You can never leave- “_

_“_ HELP!”

I bolt from my place on the ground, gasping for breath. My hands fly to my chest as I take in my surrounding, nothing but darkness shrouding me. This does nothing to ease my panic, a new wave of unease rolling through me as I pant heavily, wiping at the hair at the nape of my neck. I take a moment to run my fingers through my hair slowly, root to tip, grounding myself as I close my eyes.

It was just a dream.

‘ _Dreams are occasionally like water in cups_ ’ Momma’s soft voice floats through my head as my fingers flow their way through my hair as I pretend they were her fingers, untangling it slowly as I take a deep steadying, albeit shaky, breath. ‘ _sometimes they overflow_ ,’

I continue to untangle my hair, reopening my eyes slowly as I take another, deeper breath. The hole in my chest from before was beginning to crack. It was starting to crack open and spill, but I took a deep breath.

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out._

I looked around me, taking in the darkness and the faint shape of a tent and it all comes rushing back to me. The tavern, the rain, Jaskier and I under the tree-

Jaskier.

_I was on an adventure with Jaskier._

I start to braid my hair as I continue to think purposely think about my breathing, the slow inhale and exhale a thought of purpose. Jaskier might be upset with me, I snapped at him earlier. Geralt expected answer to a question that was not his to ask. Binding my hair, I exit my tent, looking over towards where the boys set the tents by the horses. I could go see if Jaskier was awake. If memory served he was always a night owl.

Then again, five years is a long time. A person could ch-

“I thought you were out for the night. Or did you wake to fight a round two with our favorite Witcher?” Jaskier asks, tone light and amused from the dark. I place a hand over my racing heart, jumping slightly as I turn towards him. The sight of him sitting lazily with his back to the trunk off a tree, elbow idly propped up on his raised knee in unsettling attractiveness does little to ease the just stilled racing of my heart. If anything, now it was racing for an entirely different reason.

“Fuck! Shouldn’t you playing an instrument or something?” I ask quietly, looking around to see if Geralt was near. Jaskier shakes his head at me with a small smile, eyes hopeful as he sits still against his tree. He had a leg stretched before him, his other hand coming out to his side in a unhurried shrug as he keeps my gaze. He was testing my waters, seeing where he stood.

Smart man.

“Geralt’s finally getting some sleep. He woke me up quite some time ago to keep watch.” He said as he patted the ground beside him. I walk over slowly, contemplating if I should sit or not. Jaskier simply looks out into the vegetation with his gaze flickering up to the sky after a moment or two. He was giving me my space as I make my ways towards him.

“Oh.” I don’t know why. Maybe it was the warmth of his smile, his very being casting light into a sea of darkness. It could’ve been the smell of dandelions and lavender. Quite possible fucking destiny herself was another reason, but it didn’t quite matter. All that mattered was that it wasn’t my choice anymore, it was a predisposed deposition laid before me: couldn’t he _see_ that?

“He’s _rough_ around the edges but he means well.” Jaskier comments as I finally take my place beside him, finally glancing at me. I roll my eyes as I wrap my arms around my knees, attempting to relax and enjoy the moment for what it was and not bristle at his vying for Geralt. I could feel jealousy blossom in the pit of my stomach as I grab my wrist tightly, sighing in exasperation.

“He said that I had no common sense.” I pout, chin coming to find rest on my knees as well. Jaskier laughs softly at that, shaking his head as he picks up a stick from beside him, digging it around in the loose dirt at his own feet. He starts to draw seemingly random figures and I watch him, watch how his sole focus is on the random caverns being created in the dirt, his own little world. The lines start to cave into one other, their paths colliding with one another as he swirls the stick around in lazy patterns.

“Well, that _could_ be debatable.” Jaskier agrees quietly as he continues to dig, a light laugh bleeding into his words. I elbow him lightly, causing him to laugh harder as he gives me a returning shove, and it feels like _home_. It feels like we are children again, stealing wine and writing _raunchy_ songs, and that nothing bad could touch us. Not even Geralt and his sourpuss mood.

“Speak for yourself, _Bard_.” I tease, eyes looking up at the stars as I revel in the silence. We both sit there quietly, the only sound being the cicadas and birds in the distance, along with Jaskier’s stick in the dirt. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, although I couldn’t stand to sit in it with him. _Too much time had already been wasted, why not grow a pair and_ say something _already, Elowyn?_

“Truth or dare.”

“You are the devil reincarnate.” He mutters as he pokes me in the side with his man-stick, causing a fit of giggles to flow from my mouth unexpectedly. I look at him with a smirk on my face, faux glare in place as I shake my head at him.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way, now _truth_ or _dare_.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to sing me a song with the word ‘ _fuck_ ’ in it fifteen times.”

“You’ll be the _death_ of me, you devil woman.” Jaskier holds his gaze with mine as

“So, I’ve heard.”

“I’m just supposed to come up with it off the top of my head? Just, ‘ _fuck_ ’ fifteen times?” Jaskier talks over me, slumping in defeat as he huffs and puffs like an old woman. I tsk my tongue at him, shaking a pointed finger in his direction as I stand, pacing in front of him and his small dirt-world.

“Are you not the famous bard Jaskier who has sung for kings and queens and us poor peasants alike? Or do I have the wrong man?” I bring my finger to rest under my chin dramatically as I look up to the sky, continuing to pace, “I must, because see, the boy _I_ remember never once left me disappointed. Had a voice like an angel, he did- “I nod while glancing over at Jaskier, holding his gaze with a small smirk. I find his beautiful blue eyes already staring at me, smiling wide as his grip tightens on his little wand, eyes twinkling with something _more._ The look itself stops me in my tracks, mesmerized by the way the stars sparkle in his angel eyes. “-and he never _ever_ left a request unfilled or a dare undone. No, never _my_ Jaskier,” I’m almost breathless as I finish, a giggle escaping as a blush quickly rises to his cheeks at my choice of words. His smile never leaves his face, _no,_ but it does widen as he clumsily stands to his feet, stick long forgotten on the ground as he wipes at his pants.

“Fuck you, help me start a fire so I can fucking see.” Jaskier grumbles, passing by me with a soft bump on the shoulder. He bends to pick up wood as I turn to look at him, scoffing at _his_ childish behavior.

“Hey!”

“Surely one such as _devious_ as you shouldn’t need a reminder, Elowyn, _however_ you must not remember how you got that scar under your chin.” He taunts as he turns towards me, standing close. Too close. We are chest to chest, breathing each other’s air as a blush rises to my cheeks, a _painful_ memory from our shared childhood coming to life in my mind’s eye.

“I- _Ugh_! That was all _your_ fault!”

“No! It is not _my_ fault that you ran!”

“You were trying to _kiss_ me!”

“You _dared_ me to, and you said so yourself. I have never left a dare unfulfilled.”

“Except that one.”

“Well, _yes_. Except that one. But only because you were bleeding and crying and _begging_. You never know. I may come and collect one of these days, little devil.” I could feel my breath coming a bit faster as I kept staring into his eyes. His finger tapped under my chin lightly, tapping my scar and I giggle at Jaskier causing him to smile brightly down at me. I feel a flush raging down my neck, settling in my chest as a fire gathered between my legs while I continue staring. He almost trails his eyes along the rising redness down my exposed neck, the braid exposing my pale skin to him. It’s him who breaks away, clearing his throat before turning and muttering something about getting cold before gathering more wood.

All I could think about was how his laughter was running through my veins. How the image of the stars sparkling in his eyes was forever etched into my memory. The boy. The one who would taunt me. The one who would stay up for hours with me, writing songs and singing. Maybe it was the dandelions and lavender. Could’ve been fucking destiny herself. It didn’t matter. All that mattered in this moment was that the hole was gone, and it was filled to overflowing with nothing, but _warmth_ and it was Jaskier that was pouring it straight into my chest.

Jaskier had filled my chest with the breath of adventure, again, taunting each other lowly as we sparked tinder and maybe something _more_. By the time we got a small fire going, I was hoping he couldn’t tell I had a small flush beginning to crawl up my neck. _A fire inside to match the one on the outside._

With a small fire crackling, Jaskier and I sit by each other. Close enough to almost touch but far enough to respect one another’s space. We lay with our backs against the log, legs out ass I lay my head against his shoulder tentatively, his lute laying across his lap as he picks a sweet melody across the strings. The song isn’t too fast paced nor is it slow, just a gentle little plucking as we lie there, a comfortable silence blanketing us as I close my eyes, relaxing more into Jaskier as the melody continues.

“Shall I just ask you your question? Skip the pleasantries?” He hums, voice low as if he is afraid to break the calm silence between us. I smile fondly, a hand coming to rest on the crook of his arm gently, wanting to feel more of his warmth from today.

“Well, I guess. I resemble mud well enough, may as well live up to the expectations set to me by my genetics.”

“What was your nightmare about?” I rub the fabric there on his jacket, the fabric slightly rough on the soft pads on my fingers as I take a moment to think about my answer. I can feel the faint whispers of Jaskier’s muscles moving underneath his outer layer as I play with the fabric, sighing as I move my cheek side-to-side on his shoulder to scratch it.

“It-It was more of a bad feeling, really. I don’t remember much,” I lie with my eyes closed, not bothering to look up at Jaskier as I speak. He continues to play his sweet song, never faltering as we speak.

“What was the dream, Elowyn? _Talk_ to me, please, jus- “

“ _Fuck,_ it-it was my birthday,” I interrupt, his plea breaking my reserve as I open my eyes. His gentle tune starts to slow as I steady my gaze, his blue eyes calming as I take the plunge, “well _our_ birthday. It was the day before you left, you _must_ remember. You remember _everything._ It was-It was when Maddy- _Shit.”_ I take a deep breath as the hole cracks in my chest, Jaskier’s melody swelling in volume to help calm my nerves as I relax once more. _“_ It was _that_ day with Maddox-”

“You said you were fine. “He chides lowly, instrument still playing a loud slow melody. I keep my eyes open as I lay my head down, sighing in exasperation. I can feel the warmth swell around me and I lean more into Jaskier, sighing as I place my chin on his shoulder with a shrug.

“There was nothing to talk about. And there isn’t still.”

“He had you pinned down onto the ground, Elowyn, with his hand over your face saying _pox_ knows wha- “

“ _I remember!”_ I yell, closing my eyes once more as I put some distance between us. He stops playing then and I can feel the weight of his stare behind my eyelids. I rake a hand over my face before I reopen my eyes, voice softer than before as I keep his gaze. His lute was to the side of him and he had shifted towards me as I kept looking at him, running a finger over my hands before I speak. _“_ I-I remember, thank you, Jaskier. My father found him atop me, whispering _obscenities_ in my ear and that’s when Maddox attacked him. You and my mother got some-some _men_ , I don’t fucking know, he-h-he then attacked them, and he _died_ , I remember. It ended there, Jaskier, leave it _alone_.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Ely? You’re keeping something from me, I can _feel_ it.” He grabbed my hand softly then and it took all the resolve in me not to tell him everything. I could tell him of a mad man’s last words, muttered dark in low on the dirty ground in the early hours of the morning. I sigh as I shake my head, eyes drifting down to our joined hands in my lap.

“Jaskier, please. Leave it alone. For now.”

“For now.” He relents with a sigh and I can feel his arm relax under my touch. We stay in the calm and the quiet for a moment, relishing in one another before he picks up the neck of his lute, waggling it to catch my attention before he speaks. “Am I still permitted to play, my devil?” My head stays in its place at his shoulder, eyes closing for the final time before Jaskier _hopefully_ sings me to sleep. The sky was still somewhat dark, the first signs of early morning settling into our bones.

“ _Please_. Something happy with a bounce to it. You still have a dare to complete.”

“As you wish, little devil.

“ _When a humble bard,_

_Graced a ride along,_

_With Geralt of Rivia,_

_Along came this so-ong- “_


	5. Seven for Secret, Never to be Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So hello. I hope you enjoy! Please leave some feedback on this chapter, this is my first attempt at a flavorful? chapter? Idk. I tried. 
> 
> Thanks in advance guys!!!

Annoyance. ****

Annoyance was clawing its way through my stomach and settling in my chest before spilling from my mouth loudly in front of Jaskier.

“Birds? We’re following _birds.”_

“Technically, you’re following me,” Jaskier places his chin at my shoulder, mouth close to my ear as he talks a touch quieter than normal. I tighten the reins in my grip as his warm words pass my neck fondly, causing a flush to rise in their wake. “I’m following Geralt and _Geralt_ is following the birds.”

“I don’t give a flying _fuck_ about technicalities.” I complain once more, grip ever tightening as his hands find purchase snugly against my middle, pressing me to the front of his chest firmly as he reaches around himself, our thighs rubbing together with every action. The sudden change in position has me visibly blushing red, the only sound I can hear in cadence with his voice was my own racing heart. I feel something placed between us before he’s suddenly pushing me away, something hard pressed into the small of my back. Was that _-_

 _No_ -

“That’s a _great_ line, quite magnificent actually. Do you mind if I use that?” He asks, his voice sounding off as I hear his pages shuffle. He uses my back as a table as he scribbles into his book, the sensation making me feel dizzy for a moment before I remembered how to breathe. Space. Something outside the _perverse_ number of hormones flowing through him and into me at his touch in various places. It was all encompassing, as if I was blinded at the sun.

A flash of silver flashes in front of me, the light reflecting off Geralt’s surprisingly neat hair in the mid-morning sun. _That’s right._ We are followingMister Grouchy-Pants-Witcher.

“ _Geralt,_ why are we following birds?” I ask obnoxiously as I urge Hamish faster, so we are riding along our companion. _One more reason to keep the hormones in check._

“They’re scavengers. We could use the extra coin.” His voice is hard when he speaks. He keeps his eyes up as I shake my head at him, a small scoff falling from my lips. We continue for a moment, Jaskier writing and Geralt looking towards the pale morning sky. I wait for him to follow up with anything before I sigh dramatically, leaning back onto Jask, interrupting his song-making.

“How dull. I don’t see how the two can be- _oh._ ” The smell hits before I see Geralt jump off a nervous Roach, hands making a weird figure, muttering under his breath as an otherworldly calmness eases over her. Hamish isn’t as squeamish as the mare, walking behind Geralt just fine as he moves some over hanging vegetation, taking a deep breath before leading the way through.

The scene before me is sickening and I bring a hand to my mouth in disgust. A young girl in blue lay without her face and neck, her clothes bloody and torn. The man beside her, either a lover or relative. You could see where the animals in the forest had started picking at the decaying flesh.

Geralt walks towards the man while Jaskier ends up by the woman, leaving me in my perch. I keep my eyes on the stoic man, watching how he works. He’s methodical in his steps, only touching what he must before moving on. His gaze flickers to me as he reaches down, snatching a leather pouch from the corpse.

“Are you sure that you want to continue with this adventure?” Geralt asks as he stands, going through the man’s contents as I look at him fully. He seemed unfazed, almost numb to the situation as he continued. I bristle at his small quip sent my way, a glare burning a hole in the side of his head while he surveys the entire layout before him, trying to read the papers.

“This rose, Elowyn. Is it just me or does it look familiar?” Jask asks as he comes beside me, his hand touching my calf to gain my attention. My gaze never falters from Geralt although he still hasn’t looked at me and I raise a hand to Jaskier for a moment. The fire never dies, oh _no_ ; she slowly simmers in my blood and splats from my mouth like a boiling pot bubbled over.

“Excuse me?” I press Geralt, Hamish taking a step forward as my feet dig into him. Geralt pockets the coin and a piece of paper, placing the man’s belongings back on his person before he turns towards me sighing lightly. He lifts the man’s hand while crouched, holding up the _blue_ decaying appendage. He places it down gently before he walks over to the woman, flipping her over as I gag slightly at the swollen flesh, looking away before my insides came into the _out._

“I didn’t stutter- “

“Elowyn, _look._ ” Jaskier presses as he holds a rose up. I glance at it quickly before shooing him away, hopping _off_ the Ham as I point a finger in Geralt’s direction. The ground sways beneath my feet as I turn to Geralt and the body. I push through the feeling as a holy fire takes rage inside me. This man had the _audacity-_

“If we have a problem, then you _say,_ you know use _words_? You _say_ something to m _\- “_ I’m cut off by a loud piercing shriek and it causes me to cover my ears. I feel Jaskier grab my arm from behind, pulling me closer as I instinctually move towards him.

“Quiet.” Geralt chides as if _I can speak_ right now. I swallow my fear after a moment, gathering myself as Geralt stares off into the trees around us. His eyes were narrowed, and you could tell that even though he was five feet away from us physically, he wasn’t _there_ with is in that moment.

The mask of a Witcher fell over his face as I glance down to where Jaskier and I are grabbing each other’s arms tightly, looking around the greenery myself. The air grows stagnant as Geralt stills, his gaze set over my shoulder as I am faced towards him. Jaskier gasps lightly before he turns his back towards whatever he was facing and grips my arm tighter, turning me towards his chest pressing my head to his chest. One hand stayed behind my head, and I could hear his heart beat hard and _fast-_ and-

_Jaskier was scared._

“Hello, there.” Geralt grumbles as he looks over our shoulder, causing me to go still. He holds his hand out to Jaskier and I, stilling us entirely. Didn’t matter if he told me to run at that point, because I wasn’t going _anywhere,_ I could hardly breathe as the moments seemed to drag on into forever.It’s a moment before I hear a woman’s giggle from behind me before Geralt is shoving past us suddenly, his hair a streak of white as he runs. It takes me a moment to assess that something has happened before I look up at Jaskier, eyes large as I grip his shirt tighter.

“The _fuck_ was that?” I ask as he drags me to the Ham, shoving me into the saddle before he mounts the horse behind me, grabbing the reins and running after Geralt. I could feel his heart pound through my back when he pressed into me. It was beating hard, but not as fast-no longer scared. Jaskier takes a deep breath, his nose pressed into the side of my head as he leans down to mutter quietly into my ear.

“My next song, come _on_. Let’s go _after_ him, Elowyn.” Jaskier whines, his voice airy as he’s already weaving Hamish through the foliage, the Witcher’s hair a beacon of white through the green forest.

“But Roach, we can’t just _leave_ \- “

“Nu-uh. No one touches Roach; she’ll be fine. Let’s go. We’re _wasting_ time and he’s always so damn _stingy- “_

“There he is you bumbling baby. He’s standing in front of a gate.” I pinch Jaskier’s arm as it stays encircled around me, Hamish coming to a stop next to Geralt. Jaskier dismounts, hand out to help me off. I take it as I slide down, coming to stand between the two men as Jaskier ties Hamish to a tree nearby, leaving Geralt and I alone for an awkward moment. I caught my breath as we stood there, shaking off the moment’s haze before moving onto the next. “Where are we, Geralt?”

“Quiet.” He shushes, stalking towards the gate before opening it slowly. I follow behind him, eyes taking in the overgrown greenery and the fallen nettles, looking at the three walls surrounding an open courtyard closing in a mansion. The living space seemed to try to blend into the forest outside the walls, the mansion taking on ivy, dirty damp patches with chipping plaster. The shutters were drawn closed, as was the door.

“What are you doing?” Geralt threw Roach’s reins over a pillar by the gate, the gravel crunching under our feet as we make our way inside. Geralt stills at my words before walking towards a path, the fountains he passed seemed to be more interesting than myself.

“Shut up. Either stay behind me or stay by the horses _quietly_ , I don’t give a shit. But you need to _shut_. Up.” Geralt hisses over his shoulder, body tense. I halt at the harshness of his tone, the icy words freezing me to the spot as I gape at him.

“Okay. We’ll be quiet, won’t we Elowyn?” Jaskier assures from behind me, voice grasp on my elbow. I nod my head meekly at Geralt even though he was paying me no mind, his anger stunning me. I sigh as I walk over to the roses quietly, taking note to keep my further inquiries to myself. I look at the richcolor of the rose bush before me. Indigo faded into a deep purple, and it was hypnotizing. I find myself leaned over to smell them, a warm sense flooding me at the almost-typical rose smell, only more intense and with-

_“Happy birthday. Ely!” Maddox said as he handed me a gorgeous dark blue rose. I smiled broadly at him while I grabbed it with clumsy hands, the drinks from tonight catching up with me._

“ _Thank you, Maddy. Smells pretty.” I tell him as I shove the rose in his face, rather violently, trying to show him how pretty she smelled._

“Geralt. Geralt, these roses. I’ve- Jaskier you’re _right._ I ha- _ah!”_ I jump back with a shriek as the shutters open and close violently, making me fall on my ass. I feel Jaskier pulling me up as I look around for Geralt, my hand going to his grip on my arm as I scan the courtyard having heard a slight _crunch_ of gravel.

I barely turn to catch a glimpse of Geralt’s right hand arching to grab his blade, his left yanking his belt causing the sword to jump into his grasp. It sings in the air as it moves in a half circle, pointed towards a raging man- _beast_ creature that was charging towards us. Gravel sprayed everywhere around us, pelting us as he screeched to a halt some feet away from the blade, growling at the Witcher.

Geralt never flinches, glaring down his blade at the bear-like head. The creature _thing_ was almost all man, other than the head being a _beast._ It was in the shape of a bear with pointed ears, a pair of wild eyes and crooked teeth with a _wicked_ tongue all surrounded by a mane of gangly looking hair.

“Flee, mortal man!” The monster roared, flapping his paw-like hands but not moving from the spot, “I’ll _devour_ you! Tear you to _pieces!_ ” His voice was booming around us, the shutters clacking around Jaskier and I. Geralt didn’t move, didn’t lower his sword. “Are you _deaf,_ man? _Away_ with you!” His voice seemed to waver under Geralt’s gaze as the creature screamed at him frantically. He made a sound that was somewhere between the squeal of a branded pig and a stag’s bellowing roar, the shutters rattling and clatter as the noise thunders around us. Plaster falls from the sills, the roof having moved from his voice. Geralt never flinches and continues to stare.

“Clear off while you’re still in one piece!” He seems less sure of himself when he resumes speaking, his voice not nearly as intimidating as it was in the beginning. “Because if you _don’t_ , then- “

“Then what?” The Witcher questions. The creature shakes his mane at him, gasping as he tilted a head in curiosity. He started to bare his fangs as Jaskier urged me forward, and I pushed back against his chest at the sight of the creature’s mangled teeth. His bloodshot eyes dart from Jaskier and I to Geralt, assessing the situation before he turns his attention to the Witcher.

“Lower your blade, that’s ‘ _then what’_. Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but _you_ are the trespassers here.” He holds a paw up in gesture to the overgrowth around him, a huff leaving him as he flaunts his dwelling. “Maybe holding a blade to a man on his own property is customary from where you come from, but I must say I find it _offensive_ here.”

“I find it customary to protect myself when someone charges at me with a war cry, screaming how they are going to ‘ _tear me to pieces’,_ ” Geralt mocks, still unwavering in stance. Jaskier urges me forward again and I take a tentative step forward to our Witcher.

“ _Pox_ on it! First you trespass, then you dare _insult_ me?” The creature roars, eyes glancing our way as we start walking forwards. “And you, _woman_. Do you wander into everyone’s yard to desecrate their rose bushes?” His tone is harsh and somewhat mocking, shocking me out of my bewilderment. It feels as if a lightning bolt struck me as I realized he was talking to _me_ as if I had lost my head. Jaskier bumps into my back as I stop unexpectedly, blinking at the creature for a moment too long.

“ _Excuse_ me, I was merely _admiri- “_

“Pox on it!” He curses again, attention resting on the sword still pointing his way. We walk up to Geralt in the tense silence as the creature and hunter glare as they asses one another stiffly.

“Geralt, lower your weapon. He’s harmless, look at him. He’s not even trying to attack.” Jaskier mutters as we get closer, nudging him slightly on his shoulder while still gripping my arm. Geralt looks his way for a moment, a sigh leaving his lips. He lowers his arm slowly as Jaskier lets me go beside Geralt, taking a tentative step forward to talk to the creature. “Excuse my friend, he’s a hired hand to guide us through this forest. We are lost travelers, myself a bard with my lovely muse. We found this wall-courtyard… _thing_ and thought-”

“The highway is to the east, keep your left shoulder to the sunset and you should find it in two hours hike.” The creature brushes off, taking a step towards his door.

“In two hours, the sun will have fallen, and we will be at the misfortune of _anyone_ out numbering us. Well, anyone who outnumbers my _friend_ at least. Please, sir. For my lady,” Jaskier says, hand reaching out to me as he speaks. I look from him to Geralt, his eyes beckoning me gently as I glance Jaskier’s way again. Jas smiles gently and I find myself moving towards him, a moth drawn to the light. He grabs me by the hand as we stand before the creature, and I tuck myself into his chest when the creature chuckles lowly, bloodshot eyes causing a shiver to run my spine when he lingers his gaze on me a moment too long.

“Wouldn’t want any hungry _animals_ to get her,” The creature considers as he eyes me suspiciously. Jaskier’s hand snakes around my back, pressing my lower back to him as I stand a bit taller. I take refuge in his strength as I roll my eyes at the beast before me, feeling brave.

“I’ve seen hungry animals; there is _no_ equivalence between you.” I comment causing Geralt to scoff from behind us.

“Feisty. You have some spirit, a fitting muse for a bard.” The beast says before walking back to the door, summoning us along. “First, you join me for dinner then we will see where the night leaves us.” Geralt walks in front of me before Jas pulls me along. I float along side him, taking in the overgrown ivy on the statue of a dolphin as we pass it. “This? What is this?” He stops Geralt in his tracks in the doorway of his home, and I can hear the soft melody of jewelry singing through the air. Jaskier keeps me behind him as we stand a foot away from Geralt, giving the more experienced man space.

“It is the talisman of my guild.” Geralt’s words are as steady as his gaze I noticed as I stand on my tip toes behind Jaskier. The bard huffs in annoyance, moving to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Which is?”

“I am a Witcher. I hunt monsters for a price… or guard a man through the forest where I may be led to monsters.” Geralt taunts and I could _hear_ the smirk he wears inflate the air around us, a tense silence falling over us as the beast takes a step closer to Geralt.

“Hmm. May I?”

“Of course.” I hear the chain sing through the air more than see it, Geralt’s broad shoulders cutting off any visual we had. “It is made of pure silver. Quite important for my profession.” The creature grabs the chain of the necklace, almost choking Geralt as he pulls him closer. Geralt grabbed his wrist and I felt the air vanish from my lungs, holding onto Jask’s coat tightly as I watched the scene unfold.

“Do I have need to be wary? Inviting a monster hunter to a monster’s table?” He tightens his grip, pulling Geralt closer as the hand tightens around his wrist. The creature starts to make a boarish sound as the silence dragged on, Geralt’s attention focused solely on the being before him.

“No.”

“ _Sir_ , if I may,” I interrupt, walking in front of Jaskier. As I walk by, he wraps an arm around my waist, restricting my advance on the two. “I never properly introduced myself. I am Rose, and this is Dandelion. I think it inappropriate if we weren’t introduced before sitting at your table. After all, that would be _offensive_ ,” I lie easily, Jaskier’s hand at my waist tightening as I speak with my hands.

“Hm. It would.” He releases Geralt without a second thought, a calm washing over him when he realized a _lady_ was present. “My name is Nivellen and I am master of this home. It does whatever I want.” He takes a step closer although Geralt doesn’t move. The beast, _Nivellen_ , holds a hand out. “Pay close attention, woman.” His hand quickly tightens to a fist and all the shutters and doors clamor open with a loud _bang_ causing me to jump. Nivellen growls, seemingly pleased with himself as I laugh at his demonstration of _chaos_.

“Are you a wizard, Nivellen?” I ask quietly as he leads us inside. The beast shakes his mane as we enter the foyer, lifting a hand to light the way as we enter a lavish looking home. Along the walls lay expensive looking paper, thick in nature, the soft swirls of blue and yellow giving a distinct _home_ feeling as you walked in.

“No, the house started listening to me one day. Doing whatever I asked of it. I wasn’t _al_ \- it’s quite complicated. Would you like to hear the whole story, Rose?” The fake name sounds rotten as it falls from his mangled lips, his claws extended towards me.

“Please.”

“This way, we will talk over dinner.” Nivellen addresses as he walks through an archway, Geralt hot on his heels. I stand as I let him pass, waiting for Jaskier who was behind him. Jas holds me back for a moment, standing close to me while he keeps his grip soft on my arm.

“Dandelion? _Rose_?” He asks, eyes light with humor. I scoff lightly as I relax into him, poking him lightly in the shoulder before answering. Jaskier’s hand falls to my own as we stand there, I open and shut my mouth a few times before I feel a flush rise to my cheeks.

“Well, _yes._ I use roses in my soap and well…” I say, eyes dropping down to where our hands meet. His fingers are wrapped around my wrist lightly, holding me there as I stand close to his chest. Close enough to smell the soap he used before they left the inn. _Dandelions and lavender._

“Hmm?” He hums, pulling my gaze back up to him while I get lost in reverie. I blush harder under his gaze, flustering about like a fish out of water.

“You-you smell like _dandelions,_ is all.” I sputter, trying to take a step back to give myself space. To breathe. Jaskier’s grip tightens around my wrist before pulling me flush to his chest, our face inches from one another. His grip stays on my wrist while his other hand wraps around my back, his fingers splayed on the bottom curve of my ribs. He was holding me tight to him as we stand by the wall, I noticed myself gasping for breath at the sudden change in position. Jaskier’s deep rumbling chuckles settle in my core, a deep warmth spreading at his playful smile.

“You noticed what I use in my soaps?” He whispers, the same smile brightening his eyes. My eyes flash down to his smile, so full of _warmth_ and his tongue sweeps to dampen his cracked lips. I close my eyes as a wet heat envelops me, and I feel his nose dip down to skim my heated cheeks. I giggle at the sensation of his breath as it hits my face, his own chuckles reverberating through my ears, my _chest-_

“Well, that just sounds creepy when you put it like _tha- “_

“Dandelions and what? What else do I use?” Jaskier demands, hand tightening around my ribs, no space between us as we breath heated air. I smile as I open my eyes and push on his arm, trying to put distance between us and look over his shoulder, giggles escaping through the slight struggle.

“Jaskier, they’re waiting for us.” I remind him, still straining to see over him as his hold on me tightens. His laughter dances around us as he continue to get in my way, eyes sparkling with such a thirst for _more_. We locked eyes and I swear I drowned in their depths. As I gazed into his oceans of blue, I could see the stars that graced the night sky; I could hear the angels _sing_ his ballads-

“ _Dandelions_ and _?”_ He coaxes, pulling me close to him once again. I can feel his heart beat hard and fast in his chest as I lean against him. I bring my hands and place them on the inside of the green doublet he wears, next to his mother’s ring he wears bound by leather, and savor the unsteady erratic beating of his heart under my warm palm as a _realization_ hit me. He heart was beating like this before, just like earlier.

_Jaskier was afraid._

“Lavender,” I whisper, lifting my nose to skim his jaw. I inhale his scent deeply, etch it into my very lungs until they are filled to the point of bursting before exhaling slowly, eyes closed as I seat myself against his chest where he had me happily pinned. “dandelions and lavender.”

“You are _the_ fuckingdevil, the unholy angel Himself. Have I told you that today?” He asked as he places his cheek to the top of my head. We stand there hugging one another for a moment, a heat coursing through us before Jaskier clears his throat. I lift my head to look at him and he’s so _close_. My eyes dart to his mouth once again, I can feel the warmth of his breath fan my li-

“Did you two get lost?” I faintly hear Geralt call from behind Jaskier’s back. I pry myself from his grip to his chest quickly before I rushed by with a small smile. His gaze follows me, not quite moving from that spot as I try to locate the Witcher and our gracious host.

I try to ignore the heat that is running through my veins, try calming the blush of my cheeks as I enter the dining room. I see Geralt has already taken a seat to Nivellen’s right. I sit next to our host, causing Geralt to glower slightly at me as I sit across from him, slouching in a very _unladylike_ fashion. I kick him lightly under the table, the adrenaline and _excitement_ of this all coming to a head, trying to conceal the smirk that comes after when he’s glaring at my erratic behavior.

Jaskier tumbles in not a moment later, chuckling as he threw himself into the seat next to me, flinging his arm around the back of my chair as he got comfortable. He seemed to be on the same _high_ , his hand lazily pinching my shoulder before he smiles broadly, eyes sparkling mischief as he addressed our odd host of the evening.

“I believe there was something said about _dinner_?”


	6. Spirits of a Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here’s the thing. I there was supposed to be way more to this chapter but I got sudden inspiration for the second part so I decided to split them! So good news is half of the next chapter is already written and it wont take seven years for me to update again lmfao so sorry for like the sudden chop at the end. Not really a rounded ending here at all lol
> 
> Enjoy!!!

The longer he noticed Elowyn give her rapt attention to the beast at hand, Jaskier grasped just how _utterly_ he fell tangled at her feet. _A lamb to the slaughter. A star exploding and fading into the black._ He fell just as softly as ashes on snow around her while her beauty captivated him in the dimly lit room. Jaskier didn’t know when, but somewhere along the road of _missing_ her it created a certain spark. There was a certain _something_ coming to life between the two when their eyes caught one another.

_I could fall forever._

She laughed at something insignificant and prickly that Geralt had said, and somehow he fell _harder._ Her auburn hair hung in soft waves around her, framing her flaming cheeks. Her stained lips were parted with a pearl of angelic laughter while her head was cocked back, her stomach scrunching under the thin fabric of her red shirt.

Elowyn’s chest was exposed to the cool air, the flimsy fabric hung low enough for the black of her small cloth to spill over while she leaned towards him. Her hand squeezed his knee subconsciously when their eyes met, honey brown clashing with a brilliant blue. She smirked playfully at him when she realized just how intently his eyes were glued to the darkness around her mouth, warmth emanating from her and Jaskier felt _dazed._

He walked into this feeling joyously, heart feeling as if he had just run for his life. _Perhaps he had_. The fall from Heaven to her feet was so _euphonious_ and- _oh_ how sweetly do the other angels _resonate_ their praises while he falls so _indisputably_ -

“-wouldn’t you agree, Jaskier?” Geralt asks, a knowing smirk emerging from his face. Jaskier merely reaches for his wine glass while grinning, refusing to let his friend _extinguish_ this newfound flicker of flame blossom from within his chest.

“I am neither one to confirm nor deny,” The bard smoothly replies before he takes a drink from the wine Nivellen had procured for them. He leaned back into the chair to relax, the fingers on the back of El- _Rose’s_ chair sneaking its way down to graze the top of her shoulder tenderly. This certain red wasn’t the _sweetest_ wine he had, the bitter _dry_ aftertaste lingering on the back of his palette only somewhat tolerable. Although Jaskier couldn’t _disagree_ that it wasn’t doing its purpose.

He was well on his way to being drunk.

Elowyn seemed to _live_ off the scarlet drink, the wine spilling from her rosy cheeks while her laughter continued lightly behind her hand with her shaking untamed locks at Geralt. He watched as her tongue swiped the rim of the glass quickly before she placed it fully to her lips, the dark liquid spilling from the corner while she tries to suppress a smile. Jaskier noticed as it trickled down her cheeks and jaw, a scarlet path flowing down her neck in such a way that had Jaskier questioning just how much _sweeter_ the bitter wine would taste from her lips, from the tender skin at the nape over her neck. _What would her pulse feel like beneath my lips, my_ tongue _?_ Earlier they had been so _close_ he saw her heartbeat straight from her _ches-_

He knew why he wanted to kiss her, to lick the luscious sweat that clung to her skin; he wanted to taste her because she was _exquisite_. And before that, because she was compassionate and clever and _funny._ He could see himself taking long trips with her without ever getting _jaded_. Because whenever he saw anything new today- or _any_ day for that matter, he knew she needed to be _by him._ She needed to hear _his_ stories and praise him and call him her _angel_ and-

“This story. You said something about it being _complicated_ and the such.” Elowyn says as her giggling dies, hand leaving Jaskier’s knee slowly. Nivellen grunts at her in acknowledgment before speaking, waving a claw her way.

“Of course. I wasn’t always like-like _this_ , you know. A _fiend_.” Nivellen bites into the poultry before him, the meat splaying everywhere with his rough movements. “Do you see those portraits over by the fireplace? I am the third on the left, my father and grandfather before me.” Elowyn looks over her shoulder and pouts slightly, her plump bottom lip jutting out at the distance. She turns back around to grab a candle off table to see better in the dim light, Jaskier jumping up to follow the _ever-_ so clumsy inebriated girl _carrying fire_ in a house that just _looked_ like a huge pile of tinder _._

“Do you see it, _sir_ Geralt?” One could see the family resemblance in each of the paintings, a strong jaw with a mop of blonde hair on each of their faces. The middle one, his father, had a hard face with broad shoulders and staggering height. Nivellen himself must’ve taken after his mother, his face rounded slightly, eyes kind and young.

“I am well acquainted with how portrait artists make their drawings more appealing than their character.” The beast merely smiled a toothy frightening smile at Geralt, causing him to sigh as he places his elbows on the table.

“So, you _are_ a Witcher.”

“What gave it away? Was it the swords?” His tone sounded bored and sardonic as he took a sip of his own goblet, making a distinct face at the insolent glassware, as if the cup itself had _wronged_ him in some way.

“Those _humans_ had to move closer. The woman even took a _candle_ with her. You haven’t moved a muscle to see it. _Clearly,_ too if I had to bet on it.”

“What of it?”

“Why would you have a meal with a monster? Isn’t it your _code_ to chop and slice the behemoths of this realm?”

“I would. If you _were_ one.” His voice seemed to soften as he spoke, eyes relaxing slightly at the master of this mansion. Nivellen merely bellows lightly making shrieking noises as he slaps the table. Jaskier grabs Elowyn by the waist as they inch their way back to the table, Jaskier pushing his friend to his previous seat as he sat next to Nivellen.

_“If_ I were a monster? Are you trying to tell me that I can be _this- “_ He gestures widely with the leg of bird in his fist, gesturing to himself crudely, “and _not_ be a monster _?”_

“Simple. _If_ you were a monster you would not be able to touch my medallion.”

“Pox on it. Next you’re gonna say I turned into this _beast_ -like form because I didn’t eat my porridge as a babe.”

“I have my own guesses, but I would like to hear the story.”

“Very well. But only because you have a trustworthy face. Eat the food while it’s warm, I insist. Woman, did you see all three portraits? This house was my grandfather’s. He started up a sort of-a group- _gang_ of men. He handed it down to his son when he was old enough. I’ll never forget when someone carted home what was left of my father. My grandfather hadn’t been part of the gang since I was a young child; he got hit on the head with a club and had a speech impediment.”

“Naturally. You know, as they do.” Jaskier adds sarcastically, gaining an innocent sound from the woman beside him. Jaskier couldn’t help the bright smile off his face at hearing her find enjoyment in his words and takes a hearty sip of his wine to cool himself off.

“Yes, _exactly_. So. Young and naive, I had control of the men. Well, looking back on it, they hand me wrapped around their finger in no time. Soon, we were doing things even my _father_ would’ve been ashamed of. A young man, around my age- _my second in command_ -he showed us a cave one night. About 75 miles from here. He told me stories of how he got drunk off these women. He spoke of the women who lived in these caves, how _sweet_ their bodies tasted. That’s when it was decided that Maddox would show me the real way of becoming a man.” Nivellen narrates, messily taking bites of the food as he speaks. Jaskier perks up at the sound of her brother’s name, cocking his head at the beast.

“Maddox?”

“Yes, _Ver-_ something. He had a sister he would talk about though. I cannot remember it for the life of me, it was so long ago. But I’ll never forget his name, I know that for sure.”

“I can see how well _that_ worked out for you.” Geralt mumbles lowly before he chugs the wine in his glass, slightly wincing at the bitter taste. Jaskier shakes his head at his friend before setting his attention to the furry man in front of him, questions racing his head.

_This can’t be possible._

“Vernissier _?”_ Jaskier asks, looking sideways at Elowyn after a moment. _What was her brother doing all the way over here, in a_ gang _of all things?_

“Yes, that’s-that’s _actually_ correct. How did you- “

“Continue with your story.” Elowyn intercedes as she breaks her gaze with Jaskier. He can feel her distance herself as she turns slightly away from him and Jaskier can’t stop the feeling of his own panic toil away in his chest. It seized his heart as he took in her crestfallen posture, the collapse of her shoulders giving rise to a rather large lump in his throat.

“Very well.” Nivellen concedes gracefully. “We raided the cave. He failed to mention that it was-was some sort of _shrine_ and-oh pox, the _smell_ was just. It was disgusting. We took what was valuable and I _took_ the woman, there was only _one_ and Maddox was yelling about his damn missing doxie- “

“His _what_?” There was an insistence in Geralt’s voice that had captured Jaskier, causing him to look over at Elowyn questioningly. She ignored him and _oh,_ how he recognized the sparks flaming in her eyes, the small frown set as she addressed their host sharply. _Thank the_ Gods _she’s not looking at me like that._

“ _Don’t_ stop talking.” Her tone is jagged and harsh. Elowyn now gained an incredulous look from all the men gathered, the pure _panic_ of her words overwhelming Jaskier.

“Excuse me? Is there something else going on that I should be privy to?” Nivellen asks as he leans on the table to get closer to Elowyn, his large eyes fixing solely on her.

“Maddox was yelling about his- “

“Who cares what _Geralt_ is asking about. Finish your story.” Elowyn demanded. There was a beat of silence, a hesitance to the host as he looked over at Geralt enquiringly. Jaskier watched Elowyn intently as she forced herself to relax in the chair, her mind changing tactics to get what she wanted. She flung the goblet in her hand lazily in front of her. The liquid seemed to be sloshing around dangerously to the edges as she _forces_ a pleasant smile on her face. “How _rude_ is it to interrupt someone when they are in the middle of such a _riveting_ ta- “?

“Nivellen,” He interrupted her mid-sentence. He couldn’t let the moment pass him by, not when it bothered her so. ‘ _She’s hiding something,’_ Geralt’s words ring in his head. ‘ _Five years can change- ‘_

“Jaskier, you wouldn’t _dare- “_ The fire in her eyes, the edge in her voice, the set of her pouting lips. _Elowyn was scared._ This might be the only chance that Jaskier had to get the truth, words she was reluctant to share. _She said I had to wait for her. Not another’s answers._

_“-_ who was Maddox yelling about?” Jaskier’s words were soft as he kept his gaze locked with Elowyn’s. He watched as her face dropped to the plate before reaching for the wine goblet, taking a hearty chug as Nivellen continues his story.

“Someone he was fucking that he was too ashamed to bring too close to home. No further than this place here. Maddox liked telling his sister’s _boy_ his adventures. I gave him a rose to take to her, it was her birthday and he always gushed of how roses were her favorite. My great-aunt had them transplanted and cross bred here; those beauties are one of a kind. I haven’t seen him since, poor guy. I hope he’s doing well.” The company became silent in front of Nivellen, each placing pieces to a puzzle the young girl _longed_ they didn’t have. Jaskier’s hand reached down and found itself wrapped gently around her knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over her pants as she gathers herself.

“Your story. Please, continue.” She questions defeatedly, watching as her goblet fills before taking another sip. Neither his hand nor his gaze leaves her as Nivellen sighs from behind him.

“Yes, well, during our _moment_ I didn’t notice that the ropes had gotten loose. She had one of those small daggers hidden in her hair. She spit in my face calling me a ‘ _beast in man’s skin’_ before uttering some spell in another language and slitting her own throat.” Nivellen said. Elowyn peered over to her best friend, giving him a small smile of _something_ ; it wasn’t something Jaskier could place with all this _wine_ coursing through his system, but he couldn’t deny that it felt _enchanting_ when she looked at him this way.

“Do you remember what she said?” Geralt asks quietly. Jaskier jumps slightly, forgetting of his friend’s presence. Again, she had captured him so _utterly,_ her eyes a never-ending sea of darkness and storms. The tiny demons lit fires in the pits even deeper below, and he found it nearly impossible- _without the help of the Witcher-_ to look away.

“ _Pox_ , no. It was so long ago now. We rushed out of there, I told you there were _skulls_ and bodies. We were so scared that we ran the horses all the way home. I cut Maddox his sister’s rose as a- well as a _payment_ and sent him on his way. The very next day, I woke to a terrible _stretching_ feeling. I gazed into the mirror and felt myself grow into this-this _form_ and started _shrieking_. It was quite painful, all the hair growing at once.”

“It sounds like puberty.” Jaskier muses with a playful smirk.

“Much worse, I’m afraid. A servant came running in and I went to put a hand over her mouth to keep _her_ screams quiet. There was a mistake, the claws. She bled on the floor and my aunt walked in and started screeching and I _bellowed,_ and she ran from me. I flew into a rampage- I was so _confused_. Three servants ended up dying. The cat eventually came back.”

“The cat?” The question comes out with a laugh from the woman beside the bard, her eyes light with humor.

“Yes, I guess us _animals_ must unite together. You know the feeling.” Nivellen pauses a moment to peer over to Geralt solemnly, as if with just a look they came to a silent understanding. “I can see it in your eyes, Witcher. Unfortunately, she died not long after that.”

“A snack, I presume?” Jaskier jokes loudly, wine manipulating his decisions.

“ _Never_. No, she got caught in a trap. Ended up strangling herself.” 

“Survival of the fittest.” Geralt comments. Elowyn giggles gloriously beside Jaskier and his hand tightens lightly at the cheery sound.

“Shit is what it is. _Nature,”_ Nivellen mumbles as he takes his own drink of wine.

“The story, Nivellen. Is there more?” Elowyn asks quietly, head coming to rest on Jask’s shoulder softly. Geralt watches as Jaskier leans back in his chair, making his body more easily acceptable for the girl to lean against. She sighs gratefully before cuddling up to his arm that was already placed on her knee, the drink making her crave human touch.

“Well, _yes,_ but it’s of no interest to you, woman.”

“ _Oh_.” Her head dropped in minor disappointment before looks back up at Nivellen. Her eyes now held a certain boldness, the wine of the night emboldening her. “Then our accommodations. May we sleep in your courtyard for the night?”

“Bold of a woman to speak so blatantly to a man.”

“Is that a ‘ _yes’_?” She muses optimistically. Jaskier could see the way Nivellen’s eyes crinkled, could hear the husky chuckle he gave to her words as a warm breath fanned over Jaskier.

“What she is _trying_ to say is- “Geralt interrupts hurriedly, trying to remedy a situation that was not broken. Elowyn scoffs at the Witcher, her posture straightening as she unwraps herself from her bard.

“I’m pretty sure Nivellen and I have the _common sense_ to understand the _simplicity_ of- “Her words were bitter and aimed directly at the irritable man. Geralt had a hard look in his eyes even though his face was relaxed and Jaskier _knew_ that she was just feeling left out. Bitter. _Geralt has that effect on some people._

“I expect you to be gone at first morning light.” Nivellen interjects, stopping the woman mid-rant with a guttural chortle.

“Yes, _thank you_ for your generosity. We greatly appreciate your hos-” Jaskier tries to smooth over the hostility, rising to his feet to bow slightly. The wine made him slightly light-headed as he went to stand, causing him to sway greatly on his feet, Geralt smirking at his side of the table.

“ _Dandelion_. Rose,” Geralt interrupts with a small leer playing at the edges of his mouth at their aliases. “if you could set up the tents while I finish with my _friend_ Nivellen here.” He suggests. Jaskier can feel the woman stiffen from beside him. He could feel the heat leave her body as anger boiled in her veins, Geralt finally pulling her over the edge into rage.

_Some things never change, do they?_

“Pard _\- “_

“ _Of_ _course_ , Geralt. Nothing would please us more.” Jaskier interferes before she embarrasses herself. He grabs her arm, pulling her up and behind him in a swift moment, turning as he brushes his nose over her cheekbone lightly.

“Ja- _Dandelion.”_ She protests weakly, her breath huffing from her as Jaskier smirks down to her, a light chuckle leaving him. She takes a small step back, creating some distance and Jaskier keeps ahold of her arm, preventing her from going _too_ far. He wanted to keep her close, to explore this new fire she had created in him.

_“_ You look a bit heated,” Jaskier raised his unoccupied hand to gently sweep a finger over her ever-reddening cheeks, a giggle escaping her as her mood turned, “maybe the night air will clear your head. Then we can continue our _discussion_ from before, hmm?” The smile the bard wears is down-right _conniving_ , causing a newfound rush of arousal to spike in Elowyn.

“Well, I-I _guess_ that’s ass- _accept_ able.” She slurs, either getting lost in the wine or the feeling of his fingers whispering sweet nothings into her skin, Jaskier didn’t have a clue.

“No need to be rude. Say good night, little devil.” He whispers as he turns from her, arm dropping to his side as he sends a small wink to Geralt, ending their contact as the Witcher nods slightly in thanks.

“Goodnight, Nivellen.” Elowyn says dolefully before she grabs Jaskier’s arm to steady her on their way out, Geralt starting a conversation once they were out of earshot. She pulls Jaskier closer as she stumbles at her own feet, causing Jaskier to wrap him arm around her waist pulling her even to his side.


	7. Carry You

“Had enough to drink, Rose?” Jaskier taunts warmly as he escorts her out of the mansion and into the courtyard. They tilt softly along the path, both swaying slightly as they take their time while Jaskier hums a soft tune. It seemed as if they were taking time to soak in the justification for familiarity, a part of them always touching as their drunken giggles drift midair. Elowyn merely throws her head back in roaring laughter once she realized he was whispering to her and not the angels that seemed to always follow him, trusting the man unequivocally as he takes control of guiding her.  
“Who can say no to free alcohol?” She asks, her voice loud and buoyant. They lock eyes as they come to a standstill at the doorway, Jaskier getting lost once again in the expanse of her eyes. Ocean eyes, he muses as he drowns fully in her dark stormy seas. Yet another song to add to the collection.  
“Apparently, never you.” Jaskiers’ voice is hushed as he mutters lovingly to Elowyn, her laughter dances around them as they enter the crisp air of night. Elowyn starts shivering slightly as the wind passes over them, a kiss of the soon approaching fall leaving her almost breathless. Jaskier, ever the gentleman, shrugs out of his doublet, leaving him in his under shirt as he places it around her shoulders.   
“I expect that back sometime, you know.” Her cheeks were ever reddening, whether it was from the wine or his words he’ll never know, as she pulled her arms through the well-worn fabric. The cuff came to her knuckles, almost swallowing her hands in the fabric with the hem coming lower on her hips, almost her leg as she stood tall and proud next to him. Her smile was brighter than the sun itself as she shone beneath his sweet gaze, and he was lost in the moment. Elowyn breaks away first this time and looks around, tiny devils brightening in the dark embers of her gaze as they land on what she desired.   
What would I do to have her look at me like that?  
“Mm, I’m not sure. I think this compliments my frame fairer than it does you.” She teases over her shoulder as she goes to her prize of fallen branches. Presumably for a fire.   
At just this moment she had gone to bend down, the doublet coming around to frame her curved thighs and round ass. Elowyn stood like this for a moment, one hand on a knee while the other straightened, causing her rear to shift up to one side. This triggered Jaskier to take pause and appreciate the magnificent sight that the Gods decided to grace upon him, her luscious curves alluring him in a way that had his heart racing as fast as before.   
I wholeheartedly agree, little devil. It frames you much finer than me.  
“You wish.” Jask’s voice is husky and much deeper than normal causing Jask to clear his throat as he answers her just as she stands and Elowyn can feel his words awaken something from deep within herself. It was as if a deep chord in her was struck and she could feel it reverberate within her pulse, almost making her skin buzz as the smell of dandelions and lavender engulf her from within his cozy threadbare doublet. This did wonderous things as it swirled in tandem with the alcohol in her system, making her slightly sway on her feet as her eyes close, a small sigh escaping her lips.  
Jaskier walks up slowly behind her, hand skimming her elbow before he grasps it lightly. He turns her gently so she’s facing him, her eyes still closed. Jaskier tucked some stray hair behind her ear, fingers skimming the heated skin lightly while her eyes flutter open at the cooling sensation. The bard can’t contain the happiness from his smile- his eyes- the lightness from the touch of his skin on hers as she peers up at him. It was as if she were looking at the sun, her eyes scarcely peering open before being blinded with passion. It was devastating. This love shattered her very being and she worshipped along with the feeling of being truly broken, being wholly surrendered while under his vigilant angel eyes.   
“Would you care to dance with me?” He asks suddenly, his hand tangled in the soft tresses of her hair by her ear. Elowyn makes a face at him, pulling her lips between her teeth as she furrows her eyebrows before looking around.  
“There’s no music, Jaskier.” She could see his eyes sparkle like a diamond caught in the light, an array of emotions crystallized as he chuckles at her, his unoccupied hand pulling her to him in a swift moment.  
“How astute of you, little devil. There’s not. But if we stand still, this sphere is moving. Tumbling and turning through chaos, little ripples of the moon effecting this-this sphere. Can’t you feel it?”  
“Jaskier, that sounds-”  
“Shh. Humor me, Elowyn. Close your eyes.” Once she does, he can’t help but do the same. Jaskier sighs lightly before he tries not to think of the unpredictable beating of Elowyn’s heart that he can feel through his chest. He tries to tune out the sound of her breathing, how her warm breath fanned the embers in his heart and created a newfound love for her. Jaskier feels the slow pulling of the sphere, the moving of it going to the right-no, now the left. Always plunging and spinning, a new emotion being a new direction. “Now, do you feel it?” He asks. She doesn’t respond, merely places her hands up high on his chest, her thumb playing with the leather string with his mother’s ring attached. Jaskier keeps his eyes closed as he twists them around in circles, taking her silence as a ‘yes’ as his hand find the small of her back.   
They move together clumsily at first, Elowyn herself having two left feet, before she gave up and relied entirely on him. Feeling her relax against him, feeling her trust him as he moves them around softly in the dirt did amazing things for an already boosted ego. It made him feel like the most powerful being in the world.  
“Can you sing for me? Like-like before?” The rest of her question hangs unspoken in the air, and Jaskier grasps the meaning of the heavy words as they settle in his lungs. He can feel the words create tiny demons, her achiness allocating to him through their close contact. Before Maddox went crazy. Before something scared her and made her run from home.   
Before I left and never looked back.  
Jaskier knows of the demons that greedily eat the air from her. He holds his breath for a moment, realizing that this was her struggle as their feet ignited a fiery path down his throat as a deep pit rose in his chest. He could feel them run and stomp their feet at the bottom of his ribs, claws slice unfathomable wounds as they ascribe tightly to the walls of his lungs. They flap and fight, refusing to leave as he tries to take deep calming breaths.  
It only fans their flame.   
Jaskier takes a shaky breath before holding it in, trapping the demons to the walls that they desperately cling to. If there was a moment, even one, where he could take her demons and suffocate them, he would.  
So, he did.  
“Depends.” Jaskier’s voice is airy and light as he exhales, Elowyn could barely feel the words bounce through his chest where her hands idly lay. Even though he wore no outer layer, his chest was warm and inviting with wisps of dark hair peeking over the edge of his shirt and Elowyn never wanted to leave. How many times had she imagined this moment happening, in the dark early hours of the morning by herself in bed? How many years had she waited for something like this to happen again after he left?  
She places her forehead on his shoulder by the crook in his neck and slides her hands down his chest until they are comfortably sat near the bottom of his ribs. Here she could feel his heart stammer in his chest, and they moved slightly when he inhaled deeply at her touch. Elowyn closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth that made Jaskier distinctive. He was as beautiful from the inside as he was the out, the pure fire emanating from him palpable confirmation.   
Elowyn felt the warmth of the sun emanate from him here causing her to giggle, the beat of his heart against hers made her bemused, she couldn’t believe the amount of his warmth that had pooled in all areas of her body, the beating of hearts mixing with the motion of the sphere seemed to be the song they danced to, each of them reveling in the other’s intimacy. Elowyn doesn’t know how much time passes as Jaskier spins them in small circles consistent with the pull of the sphere around the courtyard. Their insignificant lazy circles feeling like unadulterated rapture as his hands rest on her lower back, keeping her anchored to him.  
“Please. I could really use some heavenly melody echoed unto the world by an angel, Jaskier.” Elowyn whispers as she rests farther into him, and Jaskier is won over. How was he expected to turn down such a request, from her of all people? Especially when she was this close. He could feel the heat of her body heat up his aching bones, the fanning of her breath over skin made him melt completely under her touch.  
She was a witch and she cast her spell on him. There was no other explanation with the feeling coursing through him, keeping him pressed against her as a sad melody came to him. He started humming delicately and Elowyn sighs deeply, feeling the thundering melody through her nimble fingers. What a joy, to feel him sing from the heavens straight to her ears. All just for her.  
“I know it hurts; it’s hard to breathe sometimes. These nights are long; you’ve lost the will to fight; It’ll all be alright- “He sings softly, his arms tightening around her while he slows their dancing to the pace of the song. He continues to hum, thinking of what he wants to tell her the most, the words always dying on his tongue before he has a chance to utter them. “You-u-u-u are not alone; I’ve been here the whole time singing you a song; I will carry you- “Jaskier continues his humming and Elowyn must swallow the thick lump that emerges in her throat. Her hands press a bit into his side, and he smiles even though she can’t see, knowing that she understands this song is for her. Resting his head on top of hers he continues, and oh, her sweet angel-  
“I know you can’t remember how to shine; Your heart’s a bird without the wings to fly,” Elowyn thinks of their time together as children. Climbing trees and watching the bird from their nests. ‘I’m going to be like them and fly away someday, little devil. And you’re coming with me.’   
‘Promise, Julian?’ She hears a younger version of herself ask as she tears up, pulling the fabric of his shirt between her hands in the present. She opens her eyes as Jaskier’s finger slowly traces the slope of her neck, causing her to look up with glassy eyes. Jaskier cradles her face in his hand, his fingers nestling in the hair by her ear. He couldn’t help but touch her then, emotions overrunning him as his thumb wiped the stray tear that fell.  
“You-u-u-u are not alone; I’ve been here the whole time singing you a song; I will carry you” He sings tenderly while gazing directly into her eyes, meaning every word as they come to a stop. She was so close if he could just lean forward and ki-  
“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to only sing that for me, Julian?” She asks. Jaskier’s heart sped in his chest as she drops his shirt, her hand coming to rest against his wrist by her face as his thumb continues to draw small circles on her heated cheeks. It’s been years since he’s heard anyone call him his birthname and damn if it didn’t sound like undiluted sin sodden from her lips.  
“Selfish, little devil? Never.” His voice is warm, as warm as the fire her breath had fanned in his heart. It took over him completely and he basked in the feeling openly, a loving look crossing his face making Elowyn blush.  
“Good.” She closes her eyes and leans into his palm, sighing in pleasure as they stand in overwhelming silence. Jaskier hadn’t seen her so content like this in years, since they were young teenagers if he had to guess. She was like a cat, flexing into his hand and basking in the warmth he provided.  
“Are you ready to chatter about what Geralt knows and I don’t?” Elowyn opens her eyes, the ocean inside of them raging. Raging with fear. He can see darkness swirling on the horizon, her mouth pursed as the gears start turning. She’s running from someone. “I can see it in your eyes; I feel it in your heart, Elowyn. What has you so frightened, my devil?” He mutters softly, fingers by her head running delicately through the absurdly silky hair that rested there as he rests his forehead to hers.  
“It’s- ugh. It’s convoluted, Jaskier.” The bard stiffens under her palm, hand dropping numbly to his side as the name he gave himself was a stark contrast than the birth name she muttered just moments before. Jaskier sighs greatly as he watches the familiar steps to her spiteful dance around the subject begin. She’s deflecting. She’s making excuses, trying to weasel her way- “Everything is such a mess- I don’t-”  
“If anybody would understand some of it, Elowyn- “He grapples, he only wants to help her, why can’t she see-  
“No. No, you wouldn’t understand because you left. You left like I was never reason enough to stay!” Her words sting more than any blow he had received, and he had been on the receiving end a great many times in his life. He takes a step back while still looking at her and Elowyn laughs humorlessly at him.   
Her ache, tangible and haunting, burrowing and itching fervently under Jaskier’s skin as he realizes just how much turmoil he had put her through by never coming back. He thought he was solving a problem, this problem, but he only seemed to create this-this void in its wake.   
“You don’t want to help me; all you want is a good story for your next song to croon to the masses. To be the famous Jaskier parading around like a fucking harlequin around the Continent. Loved and revered by all! Rivers of wine and not a care in the world nor a want for any woman or man. That is, as long as they spread their legs to accommodate such a lauded vocalist!” Her voice is shrill and filled with pain, and Jaskier felt guilt gurgle away through his being.  
“Fine. Then don’t talk to me. Talk to him.” He turns from Elowyn and starts to walk away, seeing Geralt standing in the doorway.   
“What are you-where are you going, Jaskier?”   
“To get your fucking horse!” He hollers back as he turns towards the shrill woman. “Is there anything else that you may need in my absence, Satan? Perhaps my first unborn child’s soul? Maybe the blood of a virgin, little devil?” Jaskier gestures wildly and avidly in animation, rage fueling his actions making Elowyn dip her head in shame.   
The nickname that is usually uttered in delicate fragility is now spat out like venom tainting him from the inside out. Elowyn was taken aback at the sudden shift her anguished words made in him. She could feel him fall through the cracks of her fingers like dry sand. Disappearing from beneath, she couldn’t see the hole her words had gouged in his heart.  
It felt like whiplash, the air that was once soft and incandescent was now frigid and insipid, the tiny demons Jaskier seemed to conjure from thin air taking residence under her ribs. It created a dull ache that even a deep breath couldn’t fix, suffocating her from within as her heart almost stops when he goes to move away from her.   
“Jask-Julian! Don’t you walk away from me!” I yell anxiously at his retreating back, his shoulders visibly tensing at his given name rattled in dread before he turns slightly towards me, pushing the sleeves of the worn shirt up around his elbows. The veins and muscles stood out as his hands flexed to fists by his side, and for some reason it sent a jolt of excitement through me like no other. Even when he fanned the holy fire of fury within me, he always had a way of being attractive while he did it.  
It isn’t fair.   
I tug the gentle skin of my lip between worried teeth as our eyes clash, different kinds of spirit battling one another for their pure ascendancy as time drags on. I watch as Jaskier’s eyes soften, the tension melting away under the heat of our gaze. The move is so small, if I wasn’t looking I would have missed it, but he rolls his shoulders slowly as he shifts away from me, and I can feel the ever-growing wall erected in that moment as Jaskier scratches his neck absentmindedly before pointing towards the gate.  
“I’ll be back.” He mutters before turning fully away from me. I take a step forwards, not being able to let him go like this. ‘It’s not like I’m never coming back,’ Jaskier’s voice echoes in the back of my mind, ‘I’ll make you famous, little devil. I’ll have to come pay you your share- ‘  
‘I promise, little devil,’ A young Jaskier chimes in. ‘A good bard never forgets his muse,’ Each step is another echoing voice, it’s the crack in her chest. The bottomless abyss. The hole devouring my heart like a ravaged animal, the torn pieces of my life shattering with his rejection, falling around me like ashes on snow.   
“Julian, please-” My voice cracks painfully, the desperation painting my words fluidly. Jaskier’s step falters and maybe-maybe he will turn and come home-  
“Now you’ve gone and upset him.” I hear faintly from behind me. I stop chasing Julian then, and watch him begin to slowly walk away from me. Again. I feel a familiar radiating emptiness in my scalp and sigh as I rake a hand through my hair to relieve the ache.  
“Oh, shut up will you? I assumed you caused enough damage for one night to be gratified in reticence.” I bite at the Witcher, lashing out like a wounded animal. I turn then to see him standing still in front of me, hands on the hilt of his sword as he used it as a sort of cane.   
Geralt seemed to steady his gaze on me while he stands still, but I don’t let it bother me. He had all the pieces he needed. He doesn’t need anything more from me.  
“The same could be said for you, Rose.” Geralt sasses with a slight twitch of his lips, head nodding to the way Jaskier went.  
“Shut up.”   
“You know who she is.” He continues, taking a step closer to me, dragging the sword along with him.  
“How is my brother and his little fuck buddy any of your concern?” I sneer at him, taking a step back.  
“Why do you need to protect yourself?”  
“Why do you care?”  
“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you, Elowyn.” His tone is taunting, as if he’s talking to a child as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He must be feigning a headache, trying to show me how much of a pain I cause him. The joke is on him, though.   
“And I’m trying to subtly avoid it, Geralt.” I reply sarcastically, glaring at him. I can see a determination in him, the way he purses his mouth and furrows his eyebrows at me is telling me that he hasn’t let this go. “First, you go and try to intimidate me to leave with your passive aggression and hostility. Now you are acting l-like a protector; to what do I owe my knight in shining armor?” He remains silent while still looking at me intensely. Like before with the beast. Nivellen. As if being silent will fix all his problems when being silent only creates heartache. “What is your problem? Are you truly deranged?”  
“I can see how wine loosens your tongue. Pretty slippery around Jaskier, hmm?” The sore spot he spoke of was fresh, red with oozing guilt and festering. He hadn’t given me enough times to lick my wounds before starting with-with his shit.   
“Do you even hear yourself when you speak?” I ask with a laugh. Geralt continues to stare at me expectantly. I sigh before I rake a hand through my hair again, eyes looking towards the stars. “Look, I get it. You and Jask have this-this little set up, right? He follows you around fucking backwater towns with some ungodly tale of blood and fire and he gets to sing. You get coin easier; he purrs of adventure to all who want to listen, and to even those who don’t sometimes. Win-win for you both. As life should be. You don’t like me- “  
“I don’t know you.” He interjects, causing me to look back at him. I stare at him a moment before smiling softly, a laugh emanating from me against my will.  
“Mm, then maybe we should try this again. My name is Elowyn,” I introduce with an extended hand, which he doesn’t take. “and I’d very much appreciate it if you decided to treat me like, I wouldn’t know, a human being.”  
“Humans aren’t known for being nice. Men rape, pillage, and plun-”  
“Fine. Then treat me as if you don’t want to kill me.” The pregnant silence that followed was full of mild satire. Geralt merely stared blankly at me, eyebrows marginally raising as the diminutive of twitches quirks the ends of his mouth. “You do that already, don’t you? Fuck, you know that you don’t make this simple, right?”  
“So, I’ve heard.”  
“You’re a good friend to him.” I tell him as my hand drops to my side with a small sigh. “You don’t trust me because you don’t know me. But Jaskier does.” The silence that follows isn’t as hostile that it was before as I relax in the presence of the Witcher.” You can ask him, I’m not particularly good with-with remorse. Never been good with words. But. Unfuck you or the such--like, I mean.” I stop myself from rambling, letting the apology hang in the air with a resigned sigh. “You get my point, don’t you?” Geralt stays silent but nods with an affirmative hum. “He trusts you, you know. Jask said that I could talk to you. That you don’t normally get involved with petty affairs. Not unless you get paid and seeing as I have little-to-no coin…Those women, in the cave. They worshipped Namira.”  
“Patroness of sundry, dark and rot. Mistress of Decay.”   
“I believe the technical term your looking for is cannibalism, Geralt.” I said. Geralt continues to stare at me, tension dropping from his shoulders as he considers me carefully.  
“You’re well versed. For never leaving home.” He actually sounds impressed while he concludes him close examination, gaze sweeping the small courtyard in the dark. I scoff at his incredulous tone, looking down at my feet as the memories flood me in small waves.  
“I believe it’s the only thing I know now, Sir Witcher.”  
‘Leave me,’ Her lips are cracked and bleeding, her eyes glassy and dazed as I peer from behind the damp rocks. ‘Please,’ Blood pools around her from the open wounds on her arms, the bite marks shred the skin into ribbons where they had ripped the flesh with their dull teeth. The scarlet river bled into the stone around her as I extend my hand and run my fingers through the damp hair at her temple, my hand coming back red from the stickiness. ‘Don’t look back. Hurry, before they see you.’  
“Anthropophagy?” His tone snaps me out of my mind, my eyes flashing over to him as I shake my head. My hair came whipping at my face, a heavy sigh leaving my parted lip as I take a moment to asserss the situations Hoe was I to explain it all with nothing for him to base the truth over?.   
“Fuck, no. Have you not been listening?” A distress call interrupts me, the whinning of a horse calling to us. “Do you hear that?” I ask as I whip around, a sea of black meeting my unsensitive eyes as I look where Jaskier had left me what seems like alifetime ago. I feel a rush of heat flow through me the sudden urgency of the situation catching up to me theoufhg the haze of the dtrunks we bad earlier.  
“Quiet.” Gerztl hushes, his hand coming out before me as the other unsheathed the weapon from hi hands. I stand beside him nd strain to see in the darkness, Jaskier being on the flre front of my mind as I peer effortellsly around the Witcher.  
“No. Tell me what’s happening. Where’s- “  
“Hush.” Grealt chimes again, a tense harshnisess to his voice that was uninevitble. Jaskier had more than one friend, I had to remind myself in this moment of crisis. He’s on your side.  
“No, Jaskier is over there. If you won’t help, then get out of my way- “  
“Elowyn, stop.” The Witcher grabs my hand, causing me to trun a one eighty around to look at him. A look of confusion earps it’s way acrlss my face, eyebrows drawn tight at his sudden need for pphusical interaction. “Just shut up for a fucking second, woman.”  
“What’s over there? Tell me now, Geralt.”  
“I don’t know.”His voice is tenwe as it wahes through me, a splash of cold water clouding my thoughts as dread slowly seeps from my toes through my hair at his answer. I can hear the squeals of a dying animal through our conversation, Geralts eyes never leaving from the gate that was behind me. “Now shut up. Stay behind me.”  
Finally, something we could both agree with.  
Geralt takes calculated steps, his weapon drawn and set in front of him, ready for any terror that dared to jump in our way at the quest set before us.  
Find Julian.  
Geralt seemed to take his job seriously as I roll my eyes behind his back, his slow pace and careful eye boring me as I wish to push past him. He is the famous Witcher, the White Wolf himself. Why doesn’t he trust his own abilities in combat? As we approach the gate, I see the starkness of Jaskier’s white shirt against the pit of black before me and shake my head at the offending man.  
“Jask? Jaskier, what the hell are you doing all the way over there?” I ask as he continues to walk, staring to run as he realizes he had an entourage. I sigh at him, eyes never leaving the annoying boy as he runs faster toward something elusive, something away from me.  
“I don’t think he can hear you.” Geralt comments as he takes his own path separate to Jaskier’s and iit baffles me. Obviously he would see whatever was out here before we did, why was he being hopeless and following a different path?   
None of this mattered as I stalked behind Jaskier, scared of terrorizing from his calm trance as I creeped up a few feet behind his now still figure.  
“Jaskier. Jaskier, where’s Hamish?” I ask softly as to not startle him. ‘I know that you’re mad at me, I said some things.” I continue, hands splayed bare before me. Jaskier doesn’t move an inch, his back stilling as he stands perfectly still before me. I don’t anything of it as I saunter closer to him, his actions calling my attention as I continue to look over him.   
I notice that a dark stain that creases over his elbow, and it continues over his torso as I become closer to the stoic man.  
Blood.  
“Ja-Jaskier!” I gasp loudly, the stains calling my full attention as I rush the remainder of the way towards him. “Geralt?” I call, looking around frantically, not seeing him anywhere near where Jaskier had wandered.   
Shit.   
“Fucking spheres. Geralt, over here! Jaskier, are you okay?” I ask, hands skimming up his shirt to assess his skin. My warm fingers glide his icy skin, causing him to tremble under my touch. His eyes are glassed over, as if he is in a haze. It takes a moment for him to come back to me, the vigor in his eyes gently returning as my hands trickle insignificant circles over his vulnerable skin at the base of his rib cage.  
“Did you hear that, Elowyn? The singing?” He asks evenly, eyes reverting to themselves with a sparkle as his hands catch my wrists, stopping my fingers mid-motion.  
“There was no fucking singing, Jaskier! Are you okay?” I ask with urgency, my wrists breaking free as my hands come to his arms. Jaskier seems to look through me and peer at his surroundings, an annoyed huff exhaling from him.  
“There was. Geralt, tell me that you heard her.” I scoff at him as my hands rectify that he has no wounds before I slap him hard in the chest, present company be damned.  
“Jaskier, you can’t do that to me! You aren’t allowed to lead where I can’t follow, it’s not allowed. Not anymore. It’s a new rule.” I confess as I wrap my arms around him, heart hammering as I feel his hard chest pressed against my soft one, just like earlier when the sphere tempered our activities.  
“S’that right now? Why would that be?” He asks in a stupor, his arms tightening around me soundly, unintentionally squeezing me to him as he takes a deep-rooted breath.  
“Because I said so.” I mumble decisively, testifying into his chest, his heart, as the fear slowly wanes, a calm taking place in my bones the longer Jaskier kept me pinned to his upper body.  
It isn’t long before Geralt clears his throat, staying in the middle of a copper bath, a pile of ribbons that used to be a dark fur surrounding us utterly.  
“If my devil insists- “  
Geralt sighs once again, winning Jaskier’s attentiveness as he finally grasps the situation that we were put in.  
“Just. Go. Start a fire.”  
“But my horse- “Or what was left of it. Hamish. Oh, Gods the blood was horrendous. A deep heavy copper scent almost solidifies the air, weighing it down as it coated my airways. I feel the pressure of the air press against my breastbone, straining my lungs with each inhale as I cling closer still to Jaskier’s side, dandelions and lavender, him leaning heavily into me as I lead him inside of the iron gates.   
His skin was cold to the touch, the result of giving me his doublet earlier. I try to take the jacket off, earning a scoff from Jaskier as he drags me flush with him, arm sneaking it’s way in through the open collar. He merely sighs slowly as he gives into the warmth, his body sagging into me as we get farther from the incident. Geralt stays in the mess, looking at the ribbons of flesh surrounding him calmly before sighing.  
“I’m starting to think nothing is good enough for the Geralt of Rivia.” I mumble to Jaskier as we continue walking making him chuckle. I smile and sneak a glance at him, his grin reassuring me that he was okay.  
“Only time will tell.” Jaskier says lightly as he shuts the gate behind us and Roach who was dragging a hoof on the ground. He pulls his arm from me and gently pads over to her, shushing her softly as he approached her. She stops her anxious behavior, recognizing Jaskier as he gently pulls at his own belongings.   
He stands still for a moment, the battle over petting her or not raging in his mind as he bites at his chapped lips. Roach makes the decision for him, nudging him forwards slightly with her nose. Jaskier laughs lightly before walking back over with the blanket thrown over his shoulders, bedroll in hand.  
“Why do you do what you do, Jaskier?” I ask as I fall into step beside him, walking into the courtyard. I pull my hands into the sleeves, a physical reminder to keep my hands to myself and not reach out to touch him like I wanted to as I bump my shoulder into his tenderly.  
“What do you mean?”   
“Why do you-I mean, not to be rude. I’m not trying to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ve never been one to do that, you know. It’s just- look I’ve been thinking- “Jaskier laughs lightly as he came to a stop in the middle of the courtyard, unfurling the bed roll from the pillow and throwing it down and to the side before grabbing just one set of fingers that were poking out of his coat.  
“Would you do me a favor and finish one of those thoughts? Preferably, the first.” He squeezes the fingers gently before he drops them, and I smile at him before crossing my arms across my chest. I shake my head before I turn, going to look for the fallen branches that I knew were close.  
“Why do you put up with him the way you do? He’s rude and-and cheeky. And Geralt’s very pushy- “Jaskier’s laugh cuts me off as he walks in front of me, standing in my way as we get to the branches. He takes the biggest of the branches carefully, pulling them as he walked backwards to where his belongings were placed. He pauses when he doesn’t see me follow, watching as I pick up the smaller ones and place them in the crook of my arm before I follow obediently.  
“I think he’s exceptionally lonely. Lonelier than he lets on. Possibly even lonelier than he even realizes. When I found him he hadn’t bathed for over a week and with his travels? Trying to get him to hold a conversation for more than five minutes used to be like pulling teeth. The only person he would talk to was Roach.” Jaskier exacerbates as he throws the wood into a pile. I look at him quizzically as I squat and place the smaller branches in a circle.  
“The horse?”  
“No. The nymph.” Jaskier answers as he lays out his bed roll, throwing himself down without a second thought. I looked over my shoulder and stared at him a moment, admiring how his body had stretched and he had perched himself like a cat.   
“You think you’re funny but you’re really not.” I tell him and watch as a smile breaks over his face. My heartbeat starts to pound as I turn to the task at hand, hands going to grab the flint that resided in the pack I kept strapped to my hip.   
“Hmm, you’re right. I’m downright hilarious, little devil.” He responds and I can hear the smile that he wears as he utters the sentiment. I hear him sneer my nickname in the recesses of my mind, the angry words coming to bite me in the ass as I sigh, sitting back from the wood pile. I don’t face him still, but I can feel a change in the air. I can feel his skin prickle at the rigidness of my body against the space between us.  
“I said some spiteful things to you.” I mutter before I look down at the objects in my hands, my grip tightening as the edges dig painfully into the flesh there. For a moment, a blissful second, my fears leave me as I think of the words to tell him.  
“Mm. Did you?” He feigns innocence. his tone making me bark with laughter.   
“Very funny.” I strike the stones together, hoping for a spark.   
Nothing,  
“I don’t remember what you’re talking about. We were dancing and then you asked me to go get Hamish. Don’t you remember, Ely?” I strike the stones together more forcefully, a sigh leaving me as I roll my eyes at his words.  
“Jaskier, I’m trying to be serious.” I emphasize my words with the clashing of stones only to cause a spark, catching the kindling on fire. I smile as I sit back a bit, letting the flames catch on the dried out lumber.   
“Well,” Jaskier sighs from behind me, “if you insist.” I stand and turn to see him sat up, his elbows resting on his knees as his back curves into a slouch. I watch as the flames dance over his features, the fire catching his eyes just right as I see a sparkle in them, giving me the courage to speak even if the words are jumbled all together.  
“The things I said. I-I said them out of anger but. I just-I wanted to say-” I grapple through them like a man dying at sea, the words escaping me as I look down. Jaskier must have sensed my desperation, his hand coming out to grab my own as he shakes it lightly to gain my attention. I look up at him meekly, the sincerity of my words washing over us calmly like the sea foaming against the damp sand.  
“I know, Elowyn. I speak enough for the both of us, remember?” He jests, swaying our hands. I smile brightly at him, his words washing into me like a pulling tide as I bask in the stillness. “Now, get some sleep,” He urges, pulling me to him as he lays back down.  
“What about the tents?” I ask as I sit beside him, not bothering to question his motives.  
“Fuck that complicated witchcraft. Come here, lay with me. Under the stars.” He continues as he lays on his back, arm stretching out in wide invitation. I sneak up beside him, tentatively laying my head on his arm facing away from him while he adjusted the pillow beneath himself.  
“If you wanted me, Bard, you could’ve just asked.” I mumble as I pull the blanket up and over us, snuggling down and scooting back into Jaskier’s warm chest, his body shielding me from the cold. Between the fire in front of me and the warmth radiating from Jaskier, I was almost too warm under the blanket of stars. A slight breeze chills the air, keeping my face cool as Jaskier chuckles behind me.  
“You think you’re funny but you’re really not.” My words from before echoing back to me warmly, causing me to giggle. “It’s for warmth. The wind.” He explains lazily, his words running short from exhaustion.  
“Isn’t that what the fire is for?” I question, giggles continuing to gush from me at his expense.  
“Fire’ll die.” He indolently murmurs with a sigh as he scoots himself closer, his chest flush with my back as he entangles our legs together, trying to get comfortable.   
“I don’t think Geralt wants to sit in the cold.”   
“I hate to burst your bubble but some of us need our beauty sleep,”  
“Are you trying to tell me something, Jask?”  
“Sleep, little devil.”  
And sleep, I did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. Seven years later lmao. The song Jask sings is Carry you by Eurelle and Fleurie. I took out some lines, kinda fit it together to what I wanted said blah blah blah. I have a playlist that I listen to that reminds me of Jask/Elowyn if you guys wanted that? Idk. Just naming off shit. Anywhore! Hope you like it! XOXO


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